The Cruise

Home at Last

2008-05-12T16:58:00.002-04:00

May 9, 2008

We’re back! The ship docked in Miami at 8am, and US Customs and Immigration processed everyone on board in about three hours. Then we all had to remain on board while the collected luggage of 1000 passengers was hauled into a huge terminal building by forklift and unceremoniously dumped. We were able to leave the ship by 12:30 (hungry, with no more food on board!) and participated in a free-for-all scramble to find luggage. In addition to our four suitcases, the faculty also had to personally transport the boxes of books and teaching material they had used during the semester. Jim had 6 boxes, but we only ever found 3 of them. We hope the rest get returned someday!

We missed our flight home due to the disembarkation delay, so got a hotel room in Miami Beach for the night. A nice swim and an ocean walk restored our good humor, and we had dinner with Sam and Theresa, who were our closest friends on the ship. They were staying several days in Miami before returning home to Tacoma, Washington.

We went back to the airport at 4am Saturday to get on standby for a flight to Norfolk, and got on a 6am flight to Dallas that eventually took us home. Only 3 of our 4 suitcases made it back with us, but the fourth was recovered and delivered by the airline later in the evening. Now we only have to wait for the missing boxes…

So, the journey ends, and real life goes on. Back to work for me on Monday, and for Jim on Saturday. Was it worth the expense? Tenfold. Would we do it again? In a heartbeat! If you ever get the opportunity to travel anywhere – take it! You will be amazed, appalled, afraid and astonished, but you will not be disappointed!

Thanks to all who read this blog! Contact us anytime - karenfranza@gmail.com, and beinghere@hotmail.com. We'd love to hear from you!

On Our Way to Miami

2008-05-10T19:54:00.002-04:00

May 6, 2008

A Man, a Plan, a Canal, Panama!

Today we crossed from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic via one of civilization's engineering marvels. We arrived at the first lock, called Mira Flores, at sunup this morning. The canal cuts right through a mountain, and we can see the bisected mountain on either side of our ship. As we approach the first lock, it doesn't look like the Explorer will fit – but we have several feet of clearance on each side.

There are two lock stations side by side, so two ships, heading in the same or opposite directions, can proceed through the locks at the same time. There are train tracks running on either side of the lock, with a train engine that connects to the ship to guide us through the narrow portion. After the water level is adjusted, a gate opens and we move slowly into a lake, which serves as a reservoir for the lock.

It is hot, even early in the morning, and Panama looks like a jungle from here. (The Pan American Highway doesn't go through southern Panama, as the jungle is too dense.) Although we are within spitting distance of land, we will not be getting off the ship at all today. The kids and their bikinis are lying out on every inch of deck space, to watch our progress while simultaneously working on their tans. In honor of our crossing, the food service staff moved lunch outdoors and gave us barbequed ribs, hamburgers and ice cream on the pool deck so we could stay out all day.

We cleared the third set of locks, dropping us gently back down 31 feet to sea level at 6:40 in the evening, and resumed speed on our way to Miami. It won't be long now!

May 8, 2008

Well, we are all packed, and the luggage has been removed to the gangway down on Deck 2, where it will be offloaded first thing tomorrow morning. We've received instructions on how to best get 1000 people through US Customs in an orderly fashion. The kids have been repeatedly warned about drug-sniffing dogs. UPS will be waiting for us when we dock (Jim has 6 boxes of books and school supplies in addition to our four suitcases and two PCs). The faculty and staff are the first to disembark – yippee!

Many moons ago, we were told that our ship (actually the identical sister to the Explorer) was used to film a move, and last night we finally got to see it. It's a very bad movie, about Cuba Gooding Jr. getting on a gay cruise ship by mistake, and I DO NOT recommend this film for its artistic merit, but if you want to see what each deck of the ship looks like, put it on your Netflix list. It's called "Boat Trip." (Even the title is bad!)

The Captain got on the intercom this afternoon as we passed Cuba, and let us know that he was letting out the throttle and taking the ship up to full speed. We usually cruise at about 19 or 20 knots, but he put the pedal to the metal and got us up to 26.4. Wow!

Tonight, Convocation was held for the forty graduating seniors, who chose to spend their last college semester at sea. In lieu of caps and gowns, the graduates donned orange life vests and Vietnamese straw hats – fitting tribute for the world travelers they have become!

Postcard from Puntarenas, Costa Rica

2008-05-05T17:34:00.002-04:00

May 3, 2008

It's been ten l o n g days at sea since Honolulu, and the ship has been a whirlwind of term papers, projects, study sessions and final exams. The weather has been getting warmer, and 700 girls have been sunning themselves out on deck in little bikinis so their tans will look really good when they get home!

The school semester is now officially over, and we docked this morning in Puntarenas, for our last shore excursion. Like many of our other ports, Puntarenas is not in one of the nicer parts of the country. In fact, the travel guide we consulted called it "the armpit of Costa Rica", and advised that turistas should spend as little time there as possible! The town is very poor, the beach is polluted, with dark dirt instead of sand that sticks to your feet, and the main street is a long row of bars with rusty corrugated metal roofs. Prostitution is legal here too – the perfect place for a shipload of college students to have their last hurrah!

Most of the kids took off immediately to the sandy beaches of Jaco or beyond – we'll see them in two days, about a half hour before the ship to due to sail.

We took a trip to Poas Volcano National Park, to see one of the several active volcanos in Costa Rica; a bus trip about 2.5 hours away from the port. The mountains were green, lush and beautiful, and as we gained elevation the weather went from tropical to chilly. By the time we reached the rim of the volcano, we were shivering in our shorts and had all donned our raingear. We were up in the cloud forest, surrounded by mist. We walked to the edge of the volcanic crater and peered down through the fog, but there was nothing to see but gray. However, we could hear the roar of the fumaroles below, and smell sulfur, so I'm sure there really was a volcano down there.

The cloud forest, always misty, is a great place for the growth of ferns and other shade loving plants. There is one plant called "poor man's umbrella" that has big leathery leaves up to 6 feet across, and could keep you dry in a storm. We ate lunch at a very nice "Tico" restaurant, with the obligatory rice and beans, accompanied by hummingbirds all around. One of the professors who is an avid birder says he saw twenty species today that he has never seen before.

May 4

For our last day on shore, we decided to take it easy and experience the little town of Puntarenas with some of the other professors. Pura Vida! We took a walk early (it was still hot, even then) and found a little "soda" (small restaurant) where we ordered café con leche (coffee is VERY good here). Then at 10 o'clock, it being Sunday, we went to church.

The Cathedral de Puntarenas is a tan and white stone building with stained glass windows, open and comparatively cool. We got there a little early, and were sitting waiting for the service to begin when the deacon (or whatever you call the layperson who helps out the priest) spotted my yellow hair and walked back to give us a missal in English, opened to the proper page for Ascension Sunday. There were no other missals, hymnals or books in sight – everyone knew the prayers and songs by heart. The service was easy to follow, and I was even able to sing one of the hymns (Seek ye first the kingdom of God – came before the reading of the Gospel). Instead of organ and choir, there was synthesizer and drums, a totally contemporary service!

We had lunch at a nice restaurante (rice and beans of course with choice of seafood – I had shrimp and Jim had squid), found la Groceria for some coffee and Salsa Lizano to bring home, then shopped at the souvenir stalls set up for tourists along the beach. The last of our lovely days in port – I'm getting very nostalgic already for all the things I will miss once the ship docks in Miami on Friday…

Postcard from Waikiki, Honolulu

2008-04-27T12:39:00.002-04:00

4/22/2008

Question: If you had only one day to spend in Hawaii, what would you choose to do?

Answer: Why, of course, you would want to visit a Psychiatric Hospital!

Yes, friends, we only had 12 hours ashore in Honolulu, while the ship refueled and took on provisions, so Jim took 8 students to tour Hawaii State Hospital. This was a different experience for the kids, as HSH is a forensic hospital where one has to commit a crime and be declared insane or unfit by the courts to get in.

HPPA laws nonwithstanding, we encountered the highest security / confidentiality practices here – not only could we not take pictures of the patients, but also couldn’t take pictures of most of the buildings or the chickens in the yard! (The administration is embarrassed that they can’t seem to keep the feral chickens out, so didn’t want us to photograph them.)

This hospital was cited in the textbook for Jim’s class as being one of the worst hospitals in the US back in the 80s, so we were interested in the facilities. Happy to say, most of the hospital has been rebuilt as a result of the public black eye it received back then. If you’ve got to be crazy somewhere, I’d recommend this place!

HSH has over 600 staff for 200 patients, and a patient to nurse ratio or 5:1. One of the social worker we spoke with told us the patients say HSH stands for “Home Sweet Home!” We spent much of our time out in the Aloha Garden, where patients maintain vegetable and flower gardens, practice ikebana (Japanese flower arranging) and cooking classes with the produce that they grow. We held hands and the social worker sang a Hawaiian Aloha chant to increase our harmony… what a nice morning!

After lunch, we took a city bus to Waikiki Beach, and then a taxi to Diamond Head crater. This is a huge crater formed when a volcano exploded many moons ago, and is the highest point of the island. It is a tourist attraction to climb to the summit, so the path was cement and had hand-rails and steps… hardly a challenge for mountain climbers like Jim and me! We were all breathing hard by the time we got to the top, but the view, as always, was worth it!

After descending and grabbing a cab back to the beach, we walked around Waikiki like proper tourists, admired the clear blue water and the bikini-clad, did some shopping, and had dinner at a revolving restaurant that overlooks the city – lovely!

Arriving back at the ship, we were surprised at the long line of students having their bags searched – the kids spent their one day at Wal-Mart and Costco, stocking up on chips, salsa, peanut butter and sugary cereal. With only 3 weeks left of the cruise, they brought enough junk food on board to last another 6 months! One of the boys said, “It feels so good to be back in the US, it makes me want to go to Wal-Mart and buy a gun – just because I can!” He turned around to see the look on my face, and hastily added, “only kidding Mom!”

On Our Way to Honolulu, Hawaii

2008-04-25T11:30:00.001-04:00

4/15/2008

Most all of us made it back to the ship on time, and we are now on a 9 day journey to Honolulu. (There are rumours that we have lost several students throughout the voyage due to alcohol poisoning – another one had to be hospitalized in Kobe - once they recover they are not invited to return to the ship.) We also had a student who lost his passport, so could not get back on the ship. He left his knapsack, with wallet, passport and expensive camera in a restaurant, and by the time he noticed its absence, the restaurant was closed. He went the next morning to the American Embassy in Osaka to report the loss – the knapsack and all its contents had already been turned in. The official assured him that this was the norm in Japan – crime is just not an issue. He will catch up with us in Honolulu.

We crossed the International Date Line on Tuesday April 15^th, so the following day was also Tuesday, April 15^th – sort of like the movie Groundhog Day, it was so nice, we did twice! Remembering that this is Tax Day in the US, we might want to consider always doing it twice to give those last minute procrastinators one more chance to pay their respects to Uncle Sam!

We have been one day ahead of you for quite some time, so now I think we’re back on the same schedule. We’ll continue to reset the clocks and lose an hour of sleep every day until we reach Hawaii.

Whoever named this the Pacific (peaceful) Ocean had a good sense of humor – it’s been rocking and rolling on board since we set off. At dinner, the food sloshed all over, the cabinets opened and all the cups fell out, and some of the diners ended up on the floor!

4/18

Today was a free day – no classes – so Jim held an all-day meditation retreat on board for his daily meditation group. We started at 09:00, and alternatingly sat, walked, and chanted until 17:00, including a silent lunch and hot tea breaks in the Vipassina Buddhist tradition. We had about 10 students, many staying for the whole experience, and a few coming by for just part of the day to see what it was all about. A quiet time was had by all.

4/19

Today was Crew Appreciation day, so I will tell you a Customer Service story. We have almost 200 crew members on board – room stewards, waiters, busboys, cooks, spa attendants, sailors and officers. They are hired in the Philippines on an 8 month contract, which means they will complete at least two back-to-back semester tours before getting time off to go home.

Mezraim Josephs is a waiter from Jamaica. He works in the Dining Hall, attending to the needs of 700 teenagers (think school cafeteria to a power of 10 – yuck!). He started learning our names on the very first day of the voyage, and greets everyone with a smile in his lilting Bahamian accent – “Good morning to you Mr. Jim, greetings Lady Karen!” He meets us at the buffet and insists on carrying our trays for us – “here is a nice table for you, right by the window the way you like!” or “Ms. Nancy is eating alone this morning, would you like to join her?”

He learned what we like, “two coffee with cream, am I right?”, and then went above and beyond, “I heated up the cream so your coffee will be nice and hot”. He sings to us, sometimes songs that we know, and sometimes songs that he makes up for the occasion. He is always gracious, upbeat and totally attentive to the needs of every person with whom he comes into contact.

Now, Mezraim is no longer young, a bit grey at the temples, and has overcome physical problems – he walks with a slight limp and wears one built-up shoe. His wife, grown children and grandchildren are home in Jamaica where he cannot see them for eight months. He has had his share of trouble; one son on drugs, grandbabies to raise, yet he smiles. Yet he sings.

One morning I asked the meaning of his name Mezraim. He said it was from the Bible, but he really didn’t know where. Me being me, I logged onto the computer right after breakfast, and Googled “Mezraim”, expecting the biblical reference to come up and point me in the right direction. Imagine my surprise when practically the whole first page of citations were for “Mezraim on Semester at Sea”. I opened each link to read the blogs of current and former voyagers, extolling the virtues of Mezraim Josephs – how he helps the kids who were homesick, how he reminds them of father, uncle, friend, how he takes such good care them, warms their hearts and makes sure they are doing all right.

I did find the biblical reference after a while – Mezraim was the son of Ham, grandson of Noah in Genesis. He is credited with bringing chemistry to Egypt. I brought this info back to Mezraim the next morning, along with the news that he was famous in the blogs of the students. This brought a tear to his eye – he had no idea that he was so highly regarded, but he was happy to know that the students understood how much he cared.

So, who makes your day? Who makes you smile? Who sees the extraordinary in the ordinary? Appreciate them. Thank you Mezraim!

A Trip to Wani and Old Friends

2008-04-17T00:20:00.003-04:00

On Sunday, we took the train (clean, quiet, on time) from Kobe to Kyoto, then another train up into the mountains to visit Jim’s long-time friend Carl Becker and his wife Akiko. Carl teaches and heads up research projects for Kyoto University, and has lived in

Japan

for 35 years. Akiko teaches American History – Civil War and Reconstruction – at a university north of Tokyo, living in an apartment near Tokyo during the week, and commuting 6 hours home by plane and train every other weekend. They are a “commuting couple” – a common occurrence in Japan.

Carl and Akiko live near Lake Biwa, the largest lake in Japan. Even though their home is considered rural by Japanese standards, the homes are densely packed in their town of Wani, with houses built vertically, and not much yard between houses. This is true throughout Japan, where land is at a premium. Looking at their lovely lake view, Carl laughed and told us that he leaves home each morning before six and doesn’t return home until after 8pm, so he doesn’t get to see the view very often. The Japanese work long hours and take very little vacation time – Carl said many Japanese work their whole careers without ever taking more than a long weekend off.

Carl and Akiko took us into town to dine at a totally automated Sushi restaurant, which was a blast! Here’s how it worked: Akiko entered the number of our party in the reservation computer, and received a receipt with a number and the approximate wait time. When our number was called, we walked ourselves over to the numbered table which was designated for us. On the table were cups and a hot water spigot, where we were welcome to make ourselves cups of green tea. Dishes of all different sorts of sushi, soups and desserts paraded past our booth on a conveyor belt – when we saw something we wanted, we just lifted the plate off the conveyor, and it was ours. If you wanted something that you didn’t see, you could punch it into the computer and it would come down the conveyor on a special red plate. Each plate had a bar code on the bottom, and when the plate was empty, we sent it down a chute in the table that recorded the price of what we had eaten, and kept a running tally of our bill so far. For every 5
plates, we got a turn at the computerized slot machine on our computer display, for a chance to win a gum-ball prize (this is very popular with children). We didn’t win anything. When we were done eating, Carl pushed the Total on the computer screen, and a human (the first one we encountered!) brought over our bill and asked if everything was satisfactory and thanked us for coming. Totally cool!

The Japanese consider customer service to be of the utmost importance. At the restaurant, it would be much easier to have our bill print out at the table and have the transaction completed with a card swipe, but the Japanese feel that the personal touch, and thanking the customer is essential for doing business. We noticed the same at the supermarket we visited in town (like a Super-Walmart, with clothes, food and garden supplies under one roof) – they have automated everything but the checkout, which still has a pretty lady to thank you for your business. (The toilets at the supermarket were totally cool too, with warmed seat, refreshing spray and a button to push to make continuous flushing noises in case you are shy of peeing in public places!)

We stayed up late, with Jim and Carl talking old times. As is customary here, we brought presents from the ship for our hosts, and in return, Akiko gave me a silk kimono jacket – lovely! Japanese houses don’t have central heat (it was quite cold up in the mountains) but rather use space heaters so that only the room occupied is heated, and all heat is shut off at night. They are very fuel and energy conscious, and have adopted the Kyoto Accords (which America has not) which include unplugging the TV and computer when not in use to save the “stand-by” energy.

The next morning we had a delicious breakfast of pecan pancakes with ginger syrup, then walked around the neighborhood, enjoying the cherry blossoms, tulips and daffodils, and looking at the huge new housing developments under construction nearby. Then we drove into town to visit the Sanzen-In Buddhist temple, which had the most spectacular garden we have seen. It was like walking in a dream. It was also nice to tour a Buddhist temple with Buddhists, who could tell me the meaning of what I was seeing. The Japanese follow Shin Buddhism, or Pure Land Buddhism, which maintains that anyone can improve their lives by reflection of one’s limitations. This branch of Buddhism also holds that after death, one can be transported to a Pure Land (Indian Buddhism does not address what comes after death).

Akiko had to fly back to Tokyo in the afternoon, so our hosts left us in town with hugs and promises to visit again soon. Jim and I shared another wonderful noodle lunch, walked around town some more, then took a bus back to Kyoto Station for our trip home to Kobe. Even up in the mountains, the bus schedule was English-friendly, and, with Jim’s expert navigational skills, we had no trouble finding our way or negotiating the automated ticket machines.

Back in Kobe, we stopped to visit the oldest Shinto Shrine in Japan, and were lucky to encounter a parade of dragons and colorful characters on its way to the shrine. The dragon gave me a cloth with some Japanese characters on it – I’ll bring it home and see if David can translate it for me!

A Day in Kyoto

2008-04-16T17:06:00.001-04:00

4/12/2008

Today we took an SAS bus tour to Kyoto, which is about 90 minutes from Kobe. We were warned that our visit coincided with the last big weekend of cherry blossom season, and also the last weekend before the start of the new school term, and to expect mammoth crowds. It was a beautiful spring day, and the crowds were out in full force.

Our tour guide, Junko-san, carried a flag so we could see where she was in the crowds, but she was so little that we lost sight of her frequently. Our first stop was the Kiyomizu Temple, a Buddhist temple up on a hill with a breathtaking view of the city and extensive grounds and gardens.

Of note at this temple was a shrine for lost babies, with many small Buddha statues without faces, decorated with red aprons. Mothers come here to look for the face of their dead
children and pray for their happiness. (Prior to WWII, village-mandated abortion was one of the primary birth control methods in Japan, necessary to keep the population from becoming too large.)

There were many charms for sale, promising good luck for specific events – happy marriage, healthy baby, good results on exams. You can purchase a paper fortune at a booth – if you like the fortune, you bring it home with you; if you do not like the fortune, you hang it on a tree for the winds to carry away…

Back on the bus (at exactly 11 o’clock – we were terribly punctual all day!) we ventured next to Heian Shinto Shrine. Here the style of praying was a bit different – after placing money at the shrine, the supplicant bows twice with hands in prayer position, then claps twice to get the
attention of the gods, then bows again.

We went for lunch at Maruyama Park, an open space where we ate our box lunches with hundreds of others with the same idea. The park had food to sell, and we finished our lunch with some green tea ice cream – yum!

Our next stop was Nijo Castle, built in 1603 as the residence of the Tokugawa Shogun. The
castle consisted of outer rooms constructed for lords waiting to see the shogun, and inner chambers where the shogun and his maidservants slept. We had to take off our shoes to tour the castle, and noted that the wooden floors surrounding the outer chambers were constructed to make a squeaking sound at the slightest footfall. The floors are called “nightingale floors” as the sound of a person walking sounds like a bird call, to alert the people within of any intruders. The castle was surrounded by a moat, and had beautiful gardens with rockery and water features all around it.

Our last experience of the day was Kinkaku-ji, or the Golden Pavilion, which was constructed in the 1390s as a retirement villa for the shogun. The building is entirely covered in gold leaf, and is a sight to behold across the water. We were not permitted to go inside this building, but were informed that George W. did so during his visit to Japan. The pavilion is surrounded by beautiful gardens, and here we observed several women dressed in traditional kimonos, having their pictures taken in the gardens.

Nowadays, women only wear the kimono, which is very tight and severely restricts movement, for weddings and special occasions like tea ceremonies. The kimono is impossible to put on by oneself, so there are shops that one can go to with people who will help you don the kimono properly.

The exchange rate here is about 100 yen = 1 US dollar, so it was pretty easy to mentally convert the prices. The Japanese do not bargain – the price is the price. Although we were aware that things were expensive here, due to the weakness of the dollar, they were not as bad as we anticipated, and we were able to purchase souvenirs. My son David asked for Japanese candy as a souvenir – many sweets here are made of rice paste and do not travel well – I hope we got a kind that he likes!

Postcard from Kobe, Japan

2008-04-12T21:30:00.001-04:00

4/11/2008

Today we arrived at the Port of Kobe, and went through the most extensive immigration procedure yet! We all had to walk through a temperature screening machine (to assure that we did not bring any flu from Hong Kong), then be electronically fingerprinted and have our pictures taken. It was almost noon before the ship was cleared; mostly it was standing and waiting.

Our journey today was with Jim and his students to the Kohu Psychiatric Hospital in Kobe. The bus ride through Kobe revealed a city much like American cities in terms of traffic and types of
automobiles (the Japanese drive SUVs and mini-vans like Americans, not the tiny cars we’ve
encountered elsewhere). A nice difference were the elevated walkways for bicycles and pedestrians which keep people away from the traffic and encourage walking and biking – an idea we should adopt!

We received our first insight into Japanese culture on our way to the hospital – our interpreter called on her cell phone to inform the hospital that we were on our way and would arrive in about ten minutes. She was told that we were not expected for another 30 minutes, so informed us that the driver would drive us around for half an hour as it would be impolite to arrive early.

It is the height of the cherry blossom season in Kobe, so we had no complaints about taking a tour of the beautiful trees. When we arrived (right on time) we were given a tour of the facility by a young resident, Dr. Iijima, who wore a white mask over her mouth and nose (we observed many people wearing masks around the city, and were told that it is because they have hay fever and wish to keep the pollen out of their bodies). The facility was bright and spacious, with flowers and artwork throughout, and each unit had areas for arts and crafts, computing, music (with a piano and several guitars in each room), and karaoke! There was a large gymnasium,
gardens with fountains, and a generally pleasing setting.

After our tour (which lasted exactly one hour) we adjourned to a lecture hall, where Dr. Nakamoto, a psychiatrist, had prepared a powerpoint presentation for us. We were amazed to learn how different the Japanese mental health care system is, not only from the US system, but from every other country we have visited so far. The average length of stay in a mental health facility in Japan is 330 days (contrasted to 7–10 days in US), with many patients remaining in hospital for 10 years or more. And here’s the kicker (Eliese and Dawn are you reading?) – the
patient to nurse ratio in the acute units is 2 patients per nurse!!!!

The Japanese government provides universal healthcare, that covers about 70% - 90% of healthcare costs for those that are employed (the unemployed receive full coverage until they can pay). Dr. Nakamoto said the government is trying to encourage the psychiatric facilities to follow the world model by reducing stays, and was starting to close wards within each hospital to achieve that goal, but the doctors here are reluctant to let patients out unless they are either cured or have a community program to support them. He said they have been trying to change their model, but progress has been slow. A real eye-opening experience for us…

After our return to the ship, we attended a reception where the officials of Kobe presented the ship’s captain and crew with tokens of esteem for choosing their port. The highlight of the ceremony was a drumming demonstration by a group of students using fat sticks and big drums of different sizes – a powerful performance!

Postcard from Shanghai

2008-04-08T18:42:00.002-04:00

From Karen 4/7/2008

Well, I shared with many my nightmares about flying back to join the ship, and the ship not being there for me. Luckily, this did not happen, and Jim was there to greet me in Hong Kong. Not so for the kids here in Shanghai!

Most of the students (almost 700 of them) flew north from Hong Kong to visit Beijing and the Great Wall of China (they said it was… great!) and planned to rejoin the ship in Shanghai. The ship was due to dock at 4am Monday morning, and we were told that we would be awakened at 5am to go through the Customs drill. Well, the fog had other plans for us…

Sunday night was pea soup fog (actually more like cream of potato soup), and the port of Shanghai was closed to all traffic. We sat out at sea most all day Monday, waiting for the okay to dock. This was the first day of the whole voyage where there were no plans for us – we slept in and called it our “snow day”, and they showed “The Little Mermaid” and “Little Miss Sunshine” on the room TVs over and over for those who could think of nothing else to do!

We finally got the okay to proceed in the late afternoon, and started chugging toward the harbor in still somewhat foggy weather. (Our ship navigates totally automatically, and we could have docked in the fog, but we risked running over all the smaller vessels that don’t have our navigational equipment.) We navigated up the river and actually docked about 7:30 in the evening, much to the relief of the hundreds of students sitting at the port on their backpacks!

So, that left us only one day to see Shanghai.

4/8/2008

We set out early this morning in our raingear (it drizzled on and off throughout the day), and found an ATM with western characters so that we could get some money (1 US dollar = 6.9 yuan). We had pared down our original plans and decided to visit one area of the city only. We took a cab (with an automated English voice recording that greeted us with “welcome to Take Me taxi”) to the Yuyuan Gardens. The cab driver stopped at a busy city intersection, with not one green thing to be seen, and motioned that we had arrived. We got out and looked around, but nothing looked vaguely garden-like, nor were there any signs, so we started walking down the old cobblestone / pedestrian only street.

We were immediately accosted by street sellers offering us Rolex watches, Prada shoes, and Louis Vuitton bags (I didn’t understand the first dozen who asked us, but figured out what they were offering after a while). These goods were not actually to be seen, but the sellers had brochures with pictures of what they would look like if we just followed them… luckily my taste does not run to Prada (now if they were offering Birkenstocks….)

We passed shops offering every imaginable kind of stuff, and lots of yummy smelling food (my favorite had a sign that read, “Dumpling stuffed with the ovary and digestive glands of a crad”), but no gardens. We came upon the Temple of the City God, which was on our list of things to see, so we stopped in there first. The City God of Shanghai is Qin Yu Bo, who ran the city in the 14^th century and was made a god after his death. Sacrifices of incense are made to him to safeguard the city and its inhabitants. As with other Asian temples, there are also a variety of other gods available to venerate with incense, and many shrines all within the temple walls, which took up a city block.

After leaving the temple we came upon a man selling postcards of the Yuyuan Gardens, and after several failed communication attempts, Jim got him to point us in the direction of the Gardens. They were well worth the search; built in 1559, they were very different from the gardens in Hong Kong. The gardens consisted of rockery, water features, bridges, small buildings, and the occasional well placed tree. Wherever we turned, there was another path to follow, and another perspective to see. Beautiful. Peaceful.

When hunger beckoned, we went in search of yummy food, and feasted on dumplings, tofu, green and red peppers and (my favorite) noodles. I don’t think we had any “ovaries of crad”, but there’s no way of really knowing, is there?

We spent the remainder of the afternoon meandering in and out of little shops, bargaining for souvenirs and enjoying the ambiance. We bumped into many of the students, who were snatching up the last “bargains” of our voyage. We don’t think there will be many bargains in Japan or Honolulu…

Postcard from Hong Kong

2008-04-05T23:42:00.003-04:00

From Karen 4/3/2008

My first impression of Hong Kong was of the huge airport I flew into to return to the Explorer after my trip home. It is quiet, orderly and very clean, and a young woman told me to remove my hat (I promised Jim I would wear my orange cap so he could spot me in the crowd). Jim had no trouble spotting me even without my cap, and he was a sight for tired eyes after nineteen hours in the air and a three hour delay in Chicago.

From the airport we boarded an express train to Kowloon, where the Explorer was docked. Pristinely clean and quiet, the train’s electronic voice reminded us where we were going, in both English and Chinese. Upon arrival in Kowloon, a taxi took us to a huge, modern mall, full of high-end designer shops and tony jewelry stores. Where was the ship? We entered the mall and headed down a brightly lit corridor, part of a stream of young Chinese out for the evening. Here on the second floor was the gangway to the Explorer! Definitely the classiest berth we have had in any country so far! Our cabin faced out into the harbor, neon lit by all the tall buildings of Hong Kong – like a $500. hotel suite! It was good to be home.

Friday 4/4

Today is our only sight-seeing day in Hong Kong, and I wanted to see as much as we could, jet lag or no. We took the Star Ferry from Kowloon over to Hong Kong Island in the morning. The streets were clearly marked, and Jim had no trouble navigating us around the city. We stopped first at the Anglican St. John’s Cathedral, airy and open and very clean-feeling, like the city it inhabits.

From there it was just a short walk to the Botanical and Zoological gardens, where we strolled through lovely paths with neatly kept flowers, labeled trees, and herbs. There was a greenhouse full of orchids (Eliese, you would love these!).

In the zoo, there was a large aviary with many tropical birds, an area for monkeys and lemurs (the monkeys did not look happy in their small cages), and another for reptiles. In the center was a lovely fountain, and old men practicing Tai Chi. It was a lovely way to spend the morning.

At noon we took the Peak Tram, a funicular railway, up to the top of Victoria Peak, the highest point of the city. The guidebook had warned us that Hong Kong is covered in mist (not sure if this is fog or smog) on most days, but it was relatively clear at midday and we were able to see the sights from all directions. We ate lunch at one of the many tourist restaurants on the peak (including one called Bubba Gump Shrimp!), and walked the wooded paths around the summit. This was a place for tourists, and we met a nice couple from Kent, England, as well as some of our students from the ship.

After taking the tram back down to the city, we took a cab to the Man Mo temple, one of the oldest temples in Hong Kong, built in 1847. Man Mo represents both the civil and martial powers. The temple was filled with incense, as the faithful lit 3 sticks to place in front of those deities they wished to honor or request prayers. There was also a furnace where people bought paper money to donate to the gods by burning the money in the furnace.

The temple was in the old part of town, near famous Hollywood Road, where we walked through old fashioned markets and antique shops. We are always on the lookout for plates to add to our collection, and Jim spotted an antique plate depicting the Eight Immortals. The shopkeeper spoke good English, and knew the worth of what she had, so there was no negotiating with her, but we ended up with a very nice plate, and spent a long time looking at her collection of Chairman Mao memorabilia.

While in the old part of town, we stopped for a snack of sticky bean dumplings and tofu in sweet cinnamon sauce, which hit the spot. I’m getting pretty good at chopsticks!

Our last act in Hong Kong, as in every port, was to spend the rest of the local money we had. A US dollar is equivalent to 7.5 Hong Kong dollars. After the ferry ride home, we had 32 HKG left, and Jim was determined to find a souvenir for exactly that price. Of course he did – 32 HKG is the exact price of a shot glass for his collection – mission accomplished! We got back on board with an hour to spare, before the Explorer sailed out of the neon lit harbor and back out to sea.

Journey to Cat Tien National Park, Vietnam

2008-04-05T07:47:00.002-04:00

3/29/2008 From Jim:

On Saturday, I led a Semester-at-Sea trip with 12 students to Cat Tien National Park, northwest of Ho Chi Minh City. After a six-hour bus ride, we arrived at the Dong Nai River, where we took a ferry to the park.

That afternoon, we were taken for a hike through a "minority village." Vietnam is home to various "minority peoples" whose native tongue is other than Vietnamese. Although these people have given up their traditional way of life, they still live at a basic level – farming with rudimentary technology and raising cows, chickens, and goats. We walked by a Catholic Church that served the community and played with the children who wanted their pictures taken.

In the evening, we saw wild deer and small rodents in the forest. The jungle-like environment produces extremely exotic sounds made by birds, insects, and who-knows-what else. The Cat Tien National Park is the home of the extremely rare white rhinoceros. Very few people have seen one, and experts estimate that only five animals remain alive.

Sunday morning, we hiked 6 km through the seasonal wetlands to a lake famous for its crocodiles. It was very hot (how hot? HOT). The crocodiles only come out in the evening. We hiked through astonishing terrain filled with exotic trees, birds, and insects. Most memorable were the huge trees – some trees were over 700 years old.

We also encountered leeches, which our guide assured us were not poisonous. Leeches create a small hole that bleeds due to the anti-coagulant the leech injects in the wound to aid them in sucking your blood. The indigenous peoples used to drive wild buffalo into the leech filled water. So many leeches would attach themselves to the buffalo that it would bleed to death. The people then feasted on the buffalo and blood-filled leeches. When we arrived at the lake, we followed our guide's advice regarding staying clear of the water's edge.

We spent the night in small cabins under mosquito nets and were surprised at the wonderful food they served in the park eating facilities. Each day we feasted on Vietnamese cuisine, drinking plenty of bottled water to reduce dehydration.

The next day we hiked through dense bamboo thickets to rapids along the banks of the Dong Nai River. Swimming was not advised – and a student who soaked his feet in the water acquired three leeches for his trouble.

I got a chance to talk with some Vietnamese who told us about their lives during the 1980s and 1990s (hard times for many). Our guide's uncle had served in the army of South Vietnam (ARVN or Army of the Republic of Vietnam), with whom I was an advisor in 1970-1971. He had been a medical doctor but after "reunification" (the defeat of South Vietnam), he had been sent to a "re-education camp" where the labor was intense and the food inadequate. Many were starved or were worked to death. After two years, he escaped and sought aid from relatives in Central Vietnam, where he joined others in escaping by boat to the Philippines. Eventually, he made his way to Australia and a few years ago was allowed to return to visit his relatives in Vietnam – telling them the story of his survival.

I really like hiking – as did the students who signed up for this trip. Although parts of the trip were like an endurance test (and the heat was a bit overwhelming at times), this trip was my best experience in Vietnam. We were exposed to an environment that went beyond the imagination of most people.

Peter and Lauren's Wedding

2008-03-30T19:32:00.004-04:00

3/29/08 from Karen:

This is the event I flew home for, and it was every bit as wonderful as one could ever hope a wedding could be! Lauren was a beautiful bride, with her best friends in attendance, and her proud parents serving as hosts to an outstanding reception. Peter was handsome, cool and collected, with his friends Matt, John and Mike at his side, along with his brother David and Lauren’s brother Jerry.

The festivities started Friday evening with the rehearsal at St. Paul’s RC in Portsmouth – Lauren chose the old stone church with high vaulted ceiling and two levels of gorgeous stained glass windows. The space was lovely, with the sanctuary still festooned with Easter lilies. Father Kevin was a no-nonsense, warm and gentle officiator, with a great sense of humor.

The rehearsal was followed by a dinner at St. Thomas’ parish hall back in Chesapeake, with delicious salad, lasagna and almond crème brulee provided by John’s catering company, beautiful wildflowers provided by Eliese, her sister Janice and nieces Naomi and Natalie, and totally awesome balloons and decorations provided by Rhonda. My entire family – Mom, sister Amy and her husband Bob, brother Walt and his daughter Kaleigh, were all able to get here, despite snow up north which provided some suspense at the airport.

After several days of 80 degree weather, Saturday dawned much colder than we were expecting, but the day was sunny and in the 40s. The ceremony was perfect, with readings by David and Jerry, a personal homily by Father Kevin, and an outstanding Ave Maria and liturgical song. For all the tears in the families’ eyes, the bride and groom were smiling and let us know that they were absolutely sure of their love.

A perfect day was made even better by the arrival of the Franza family, who I have not seen in almost 17 years. Tom and Dawn came from California, Paul and Jeanne from Connecticut, Gerard and his bride Kathleen from Jacksonville, and all the sisters – Claire from New York, Barbara Ann from Miami, Dot and Christine from Jacksonville. Lauren so wanted to meet them, and I am so glad they were able to share the day!

The reception at Vista Point on the Naval Base was elegant, relaxing and entertaining, with great food, plenty of dancing, a heartfelt toast by Best Matt unparalled in the history of toasts, and an outrageous cheesecake selected by Peter. The happy couple left for their limo ride to DC, where they would catch the flights that would take them to Miami and St. Lucia.

I got up Sunday morning and went right to my computer to add the happy statistics to our family tree website, only to find that Peter had beat me to it - at 4am he added: Peter and Lauren Franza, married 3/29/2008.

Visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels

2008-03-29T10:52:00.003-04:00

3/28/08 From Jim:
Cu Chi, located about two hours from Ho Chi Minh City, is famous for its 200 kilometers (120 miles) of underground tunnels, dug and used by the Viet Cong during wars against both the French and Americans. The Viet Cong launched strategic attacks and then disappeared into the well-hidden tunnels.

On our way to the tunnels, we passed billboards, urging people to support the Communist Party. Our tour guide told us that people feel less need to be party members these days. In the past, when there were many state-run businesses, some applied for party membership to advance their careers. Today, most businesses are privatized and party membership is less important. As we drove toward the tunnels, we encountered heavy traffic – indicative of Vietnam's economic growth. The traffic consists mainly of motorbikes –expensive ones made in Japan while a type costing about $300 comes from China. "There are continuous traffic jams," our guide noted.

The Cu Chi Tunnels are a major tourist attraction here. As we arrived, Australian and Korean groups were being given tours. A young man from Hanoi briefed us. The tunnels were connected to wells, trenches and firing positions, and they extended to the Saigon River. Although most of the tunnels were only about two feet wide and less than five feet high, some passages were enlarged to create meeting rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and a hospital. The people digging the tunnels used no structural reinforcement. They began digging tunnels while fighting the French and expanded them into a major complex to oppose the "American imperialists."

Unknowingly, the Americans built a base camp on top of one of the tunnels, giving the Viet Cong many ambush opportunities. They used this section as their headquarters since they knew the camp was safe from American B-52 bombing.

The tunnels had three levels, at depths of 3 meters, 6 meters, and 8 to 10 meters, sufficiently deep that they could withstand the weight of tanks and the impact of most bombs. The tunnels included hundreds of air vents. Bamboo poles were driven through the ground into the tunnel and termites would infest these poles. As the termites consumed the bamboo, they created air passages allowing ventilation for the tunnel.

Our tour was uncomfortable, even jarring, for me and others, since it described history from the Viet Cong perspective. Our guide noted the exploits of a special "hero girl" who had killed more Americans than any other guerilla fighter. The tour included an exhibition of the various booby traps that the Viet Cong constructed and a mural showing the effects of each device on the American soldier who triggered it. Devices were designed to wound rather than kill, enabling the Viet Cong to ambush those who attempted to transport the wounded to safety.

The Cu Chi Tunnel complex is a kind of "Viet Cong Land" (parallel in form and function to Disneyland). The exhibitions are designed to entertain while showing what life was like in the tunnels during the "American War."

We were encouraged to crawl through a section of a tunnel, which was enlarged so that Western-size people could pass through. Many students were uncomfortable in the darkness and heat – crawling in the confining environment was unpleasant and exhausting.

Our guide described the strategies used by the Viet Cong as the war progressed. American troops attempted to flood the tunnels with water. Because passages were connected to the Saigon River, the system drained without problem. The Americans directed Filipino soldiers, who are a similar size to the Vietnamese, to crawl through the passages to find the Viet Cong. Special booby traps were designed to disable these soldiers. The Americans brought in German Shepherd dogs to detect the Vietnamese guerillas by scent. Guerilla fighters spread chili peppers in tunnel passages, and washed with stolen American soap, to acquire the same scent as Americans, thereby fooling the dogs. The Viet Cong also set up special traps for the dogs similar to those designed to injure Filipinos.

Fighters living in the tunnels prepared their meals in special kitchens. They designed a complex system of filters to conceal smoke from cooking fires. Cooking was done only in the morning so that escaping smoke blended with the morning mists. Food consisted mainly of tapioca, which grew in the area.

During a break in our tour, we sat at long wooden tables and were offered tapioca and tea. The tapioca was bland, and we were invited to dip it into a tasty seasoning before eating. It was late in the morning and the tunnel crawling had worked up our appetites. My group finished our serving. "We should eat this all the time," one student observed. "Then we wouldn't be so spoiled."

As the war progressed, the American forces gained control of the tunnels. They killed 10,000 of the 16,000 Viet Cong in Cu Chi. Our tour guide did not mention that the tunnels eventually ceased to be a threat to American troops. Although the tunnels were eventually neutralized, the cost in lives was high. Our guide noted precise figures of how many Americans were killed during each of various campaigns. Both sides spent so much blood and money! The Americans were trying to thwart the spread of Communism and failed. The Vietnamese sought to reduce American influence. They experienced terrible deprivation and starvation after the war ended. Today, the Communist government is allowing globalization to shape Vietnam; so it seems that capitalism has triumphed. One might wonder why both sides thought it so necessary to fight?

Postcard from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

2008-03-27T22:46:00.002-04:00

Today we arrived in Ho Chi Minh City -- which most local people still call Saigon. During the days leading up to our visit to Vietnam, we professors educated our students on the history of Vietnam and the role of the USA in that history. Among the Vietnamese people, 85% are Buddhist and over 10% are Catholic. After the Franco-Viet War (1946-1954), the Geneva Accords provided for a temporary division, creating North South Viet Nam. The plan for the country's unification was interrupted by the American intervention. The "American War" (as labeled by the Vietnamese) was the longest military conflict in US history. This war cost the lives of over 58,000 Americans, 3-4 million Vietnamese, and 1.5-2 million Lao and Cambodians. I presented a slide comparing the rate of American fatalities in Vietnam to the present fatalities in Iraq. These numbers pale compared to the Vietnamese, Cambodian, and Laotian losses. Although Cambodia is famous for the terrible slaughter associated with the Khmer Rouge (the Communists in Cambodia), Vietnam suffered far greater casualties.

I served in Vietnam (1970-1971) in the US Army as an advisor to Army of the Republic of Vietnam Combat Engineer Battalions. It was a difficult assignment. I had no desire to return to Vietnam and do not plan to visit the Mekong Delta where I was stationed (Semester at Sea offered an excursion there). I return to Vietnam only because this is one of the ports that the ship is visiting.

The ship docked in an unsightly port facility, and after a lengthy immigration process we were cleared to disembark. We were told that we will be a shuttled by bus to and from the downtown area because the government does not want cyclo drivers to congregate at the port gate. I took the bus into Ho Chi Minh City where we were discharged close to the People's Committee Hall.

I changed some money at a bank and made my way to the Ben Thanh Market – a huge building where you can buy almost anything – so, of course, I bought souvenirs and presents for Karen. Crossing streets in Ho Chi Minh City involves dodging hordes of motorcycles – many carrying more than one person. This is a modern city with tall buildings, healthy looking people, and shops full of stuff for sale, as well as an air pollution problem.

I took a taxi to the Mental Health Center – in a relatively distant district of Saigon. The grounds of the hospital were undergoing major construction, perhaps the installation of water or sewer pipes. I had not been able to pre-arrange a student trip here, but thought I'd take a chance on being able to meet some doctors and patients here so we could compare mental health care here to other countries. I sat in the waiting area and observed my surroundings. In my class, we had discussed the deep stigma of mental disorder in Vietnam, a problem prevalent in many Asian countries. Even though my Vietnamese language skills are marginal, it was easy to identify which family members were mentally disordered. One can detect symptoms of distress merely by looking into the eyes of many these patients. Some were clearly manic (one woman broke away from her family in order to attempt to talk with me); others were severely depressed; some were responding to internal stimuli. It appears that something is going on with each person's brain chemistry causing these symptoms. I talked with a psychiatrist who explained that he had to seek permission from his supervisor before he could speak with me. After a lengthy search, the supervisor could not be found. He granted me permission to take photographs of the treatment facilities (I carefully avoided patients' faces). A security guard stopped me from returning to the main waiting area so I gave up my attempts to gather information. The treatment situation appears grim; the staff is working diligently to process the many people waiting to see a doctor. Although I did not get a close look at inpatient facilities, my impression from looking at the building environment is that this situation is also grim.

I returned by taxi to the market – a trip that cost only one fourth of what the original journey cost (I suppose the first driver used a circuitous route). I must admit that it is extremely strange for me to be in Saigon again. The buildings are different but the people are the same. I see many European, Japanese, and American tourists purchasing souvenirs such as conical hats, tee shirts and other clothing items. The average Vietnamese person was born after the "American War" ended and is not much concerned with this history. Although Vietnam is the poorest country we will visit on our Semester at Sea voyage, it is developing rapidly due to globalization. The increase in trade among nations is benefiting some countries to a far greater extent than others and the gap between the rich and poor within and among nations is increasing. Vietnam is a country that does not fit this pattern. It is a poor country that is growing rapidly economically – benefiting from globalization more than most others. This makes for a strange form of Communist government – one that supports capitalist expansion.

Happy Birthday to Jim!

2008-03-26T10:06:00.002-04:00

3/24/08 from Karen:

Today is Jim's birthday (you'll have to guess how old - I won't tell). Although I was not able to share the day with Jim, I have it on good authority that his cabin door was plastered with birthday greetings when he awoke, and that greetings for him were called out over the PA system and noted in the daily Dean's Memo.

Our wonderful adopted children, Porter and Mallory, took Jim "out" to dinner on Deck 5, and a good time was had by all, including singing and cake.

Happy Birthday love!

Further Adventures in Penang and the Qi Gong Master

2008-03-25T18:34:00.003-04:00

3/21

On Friday, I went to "India Town" to buy a present for Karen. I ate food at various restaurants. Penang is a fairly clean place and it is even safe to eat from street food venders. In the evening, I went with a fellow professor and his wife to the Snake Temple – another Taoist temple honoring Kuan Yin. This temple is known for its ability to provide healing and its capacity to attract snakes. On arrival, we found that, in recent years, the temple's snake population has declined because the land surrounding the temple has been developed. Penang is filled with high-rise condos and apartments – it is experiencing an economic boom, which has been good for the people but not so good for the snakes. People must feed the temple snakes to keep them alive.

Afterward we went to the night market and ate Roti Canai – a bread of the type also made in Chenai, India. It is made like pizza in that the maker must toss the dough so that it acquires its flatness – then the bread is fried while clarified butter and herbs are applied to the top – after frying, it is folded for serving.

3/22

The next day, I led a Semester at Sea trip to see a presentation by a Qi Gong master. Taoism is the original religion of ancient China – and many Chinese people in Penang have adapted a combination of Taoism and Buddhism. According to Taoist tradition, Qi is the energy that pervades the universe. Qi Gong is the skill that allows a person to direct this energy. The Qi Gong master taught us meditation exercises so that we could develop our own skills in this area and gave a healing demonstration using one of our students. The student said afterward that, during the demonstration, she felt a powerful energy flowing through her legs. She reported that the feeling continued even an hour after the demonstration ended. The Qi Gong master suggested that the student's ankle problem would be alleviated and that any other problems that anyone in the room might have would also be cured. I found the Qi Gong master to be an extremely positive person – quite a pleasant individual -- and I am not surprised that people seek his services all over the world. I had a student take my photograph with the master.

3/23

On my last day in Penang, I went back to the local Quan Yin temple (the one without snakes) and learned how to do the rituals. People purchase two candles, a large bundle of incense, and a kind of spiritual paper money. They light their candles and place one on each side of a main altar. After performing this action, one must distribute the incense sticks, three at a time, to sandboxes in front of the many altars throughout the temple. Each altar requires some praying. Prayer involves doing a kind of bowing motion three times and then placing three sticks of incense in front of the altar. There are enough altars so that all the sticks in the bundle are used up. Then the paper money is placed in a kind of furnace where it is burnt – sent to the spirit world where it can pay for the requested spiritual services. Maybe the ancestors need some pocket money for living in the heavenly realm – or perhaps Quan Yin needs cash for doing good deeds.

Temples of Malaysia

2008-03-25T18:14:00.005-04:00

3/20/08 from Jim:

Today I visited a variety of religious institutions in Penang. First was the Kek Lok Si Temple, one of the largest Buddhist temple complexes in Southeast Asia – and probably the most beautiful. The pagoda has seven stories and is a mixture of Chinese (first three stories), Thai (fourth and fifth stories), and Burmese (sixth and seventh stories) architecture and craftsmanship. Construction began in 1888 and was completed in 1927. Visiting this place involves a long, hot climb that snakes through a market place filled with souvenirs related to the temple. We are talking about a major tourist attraction here – something that combines religion with Disneyland. The process involves countless stairs and walkways going past shops –just to get to the first story of the temple! The inside of the temple has a long spiral staircase (with 10,000 images of the Buddha). It was a really hot day; I was sweating like crazy by the time I got to the top!

We visited a modern state Muslim mosque – sometimes called the floating mosque because it is built out over the water. Although we were told that we could not enter the mosque, the official on site seemed friendly. He said we could stick our cameras inside and take a few pictures. Then later, he said we could go in after all. The Muslims are a bit more relaxed here than in some places. Our female students were all properly clothed in modest garb – all had head coverings and were not revealing too much skin – so I guess we passed some sort of test and were allowed inside.

Then we visited the Taoist Kuan Yin Temple – Kuan Yin is the Goddess of Mercy. The temple was built in 1800 and is thought to be the oldest Taoist temple in Penang. The female "immortal" Kuan Yin is open to petitions from those who need help and her specialty is compassion for everyone. There are many stories regarding her origin and some scholars argue that she originated with a particular compassionate male deity in India. These scholars believe that, as stories of this deity traveled to China, Kuan Yin became a female. A local story states that Kuan Yin's father, an evil king, demanded that she marry a particular man. She refused, as she wished to devote her life to religion. In one story, she became a Buddhist nun and her father killed her by burning down the nunnery. Kuan Yin was taken by a devil to hell – but her saintliness caused the hellish domain to turn into a paradise. Later, the father developed a terrible skin disease (probably related to the stress of being so evil). His virtuous daughter was able to cure the terminal illness by giving up her eyes and arms (being killed did not end her life as there is life after death – or in another story, the executor's blade shattered again and again so that she could not be executed). This act of filial piety demonstrated her deep compassion – something worthy of worship – particularly since she grants whatever wishes are addressed to her. If you ask for something, Kuan Yin will give it. The temple was filled with people offering incense and burning candles while making petitions.

Afterward, we visited the Anglican Church built in memory of the British Captain Francis Light, founder of Penang.

We also visited some colorful Hindu temples, the kind that Karen really likes, similar to the ones
we visited in India.

Visit to Penang Psychiatric Hospital

2008-03-21T13:20:00.002-04:00

From Jim:

3/I9

Today I took a group of 16 students to visit the psychiatric hospital in Penang. We talked with Dr. Lau, the psychiatrist in charge of the Department of Psychiatry and Mental Health of Penang General Hospital. He told us about the various departments and services and explained that they were very short of staff; they have four psychiatrists and one clinical psychologist. Last year they saw over 15, 000 patients – maybe 150 patients a day.

Mental disorder is very stigmatized in Malaysia and a person suffering from psychosis is often not taken to the hospital but brought to a spiritual healer. Malays bring their psychotic relative to someone who can take off the evil spell thought to cause the problem. Chinese people might bring the person to a kind of medium since the problem is thought to be caused by a spirit. A psychotic person suffers from his/her disorder for, on average, three years before being brought to the hospital for treatment. The most typical story told by a person suffering from psychosis is that he or she is suffering because someone cast a spell that is causing the problem – this is a Malay explanation for psychosis. Chinese people might regard an ancestral spirit as causing the problem.

Malaysia has a high rate of substance abuse problems. Alcoholism is a far greater problem among those of Indian descent than it is among Moslems (who are prohibited from drinking alcohol). Malaysia also has a real heroin problem and the hospital has methadone programs to deal with this.

Dr. Lau explained that all the various drugs available in the USA are available in Malaysia but the more expensive drugs (such as Risperdal and Seroquel which are used to treat psychosis and sometimes bipolar disorder) are so expensive that they are often not considered "cost effective." The Malaysian health care system provides free medical care and medication but will not pay for the more expensive drugs.

The stigma associated with mental disorder affects social services. Mental health issues are not regarded as a form of handicap that allows welfare support. People disabled by mental illness must depend on their families. Someone who has been working at a job for 16 years can get workers' compensation which has a kind of "no fault" clause regarding reason for not being able to work but most patients at the hospital have not been working that long.

The legal system regarding mental illness is quite different than that in the USA – a person can be held for three months in the mental hospital if a "Form A" is issued by a doctor. If a "Form B" is issued, then the person can be held for observation but not treated. "Form C," submitted by the family also allows a person to be held against his/her will. The doctor determines when the person can get out and the doctor has the power (in most cases) to force the patient to take medications.

The hospital has a kind of work training and therapy program. We watched patients assembling small purses, which the hospital sells. They also make a variety of other small items that can be sold.

The students were allowed to interact with the patients – to a degree. Only a few patients spoke English but there was great excitement among many of them when we were allowed to come into their rooms. I shook the hand of virtually every patient in the men's ward and when we visited the women's ward, one patient sang a song (which probably reflected her disorder but was very entertaining). The students found their experience to be eye opening – and it seemed to me that the patients' living conditions were probably better than they are in my hospital in Virginia. Most patients are allowed to go outside each day and walk around in a very beautiful garden which they tend.

Postcard from Penang, Malaysia

2008-03-21T11:54:00.002-04:00

3/19

From Jim:

Karen went home for Lauren and Peter's wedding, and I am missing her very much.

Malaysia is a predominately Moslem country – It was granted independence by the British in 1963 – and, from the beginning experienced problems due to the fact that the ethnic Chinese were much wealthier than the people whose ancestors were born in Malaysia – the Malays. The Malays set up a government that grants them special benefits with the goal of improving their economic position – and the Chinese are not especially happy about this situation. As a result, Singapore broke off from Malaysia (or was booted out, in a way) and became a separate country in 1965. So, at present, Singapore is a country which is actually the city of Singapore.

Malaysia consists of about 62% Malays, 24% ethnic Chinese (Malaysians whose ancestors came from China), and 7% ethnic Indians (Malaysians whose ancestors came from India).

Singapore has different demographics: about 77% are ethnic Chinese, only 8% are Malays, and 8% are ethnic Indians. Singapore is much wealthier than Malaysia. But Malaysia has experienced an economic boom in recent years – and Penang has tall buildings and has far less poverty than our previous ports of India, South Africa, and Brazil.

Malays tend to be Moslem while the Chinese are a mix of Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism. Most Indians, as in India, are Hindu – and they tend to be the same type (Tamils) as we met in Chennai. Penang differs from the rest of Malaysia in that it has a slightly greater percentage of Indians compared to Malays. Malaysia just completed a major election and the Chinese in Penang voted not the support the party in power – it is not clear if the government will be able to continue its policies of extending help to people whose ancestors were born in Malaysia.

Penang is an island (about half the size of Singapore) but is connected to the mainland by a long, long bridge (How long? Very, very long – I don't know exactly how long).

Penang does not have a harbor that allows our ship to dock – so we must take a tender (a small boat) to the dock. We are using our lifeboats from the ship as tenders which seem quite adequate for the task – one runs back and forth to the dock every half hour.

Karen Goes Home

2008-03-19T18:22:00.002-04:00

3/15

After the briefest of naps, we got up at midnight for the trip to Chennai Airport. This entailed being cleared by the customs official aboard ship, lugging two huge suitcases down 5 decks (thanks Jim!) and being driven by the customs official to the gate, where our taxi should have been waiting - but was not.

Luckily the customs official had his cell phone, and called back to the taxi company, finding out where the taxi-wala was waiting (about 3 miles away - we never would have found him) and handing us off. Jim had agreed to ride with me to the airport to make sure I got off okay - my anxiety level was running high...

Got to the airport (goodbye my love!) and took several wrong turns before finding the very long line for the flight to Doha, Qatar. I had arrived early - about 1:45 - for my 4:30 flight, and thought I'd have lots of sitting and waiting to do, but ended up standing on various lines for the whole night! It's bad enough that it takes two hours to check baggage, but Indians (and Asians in general) just don't believe in forming an orderly queue, and insist on shoving and pushing as a normal way of doing things (as if it would make the plane come any faster...).

So, you don't need to hear the minutiae of my three flights home (but tell Malcom to check out the artificial islands at Doha made for millionaire (billionaire?) mansions - they are very impressive from the air!) Here's the rundown:
Ship to takeoff at Chennai Airport = 5 hours
Chennai to Doha = 4 hours
Layover at Doha = 5 hours
Doha to Washington DC = 14 hours
Layover at DC = 3 hours
DC to Norfolk = 1 hour
Tired mom sees Peter and Lauren waiting in airport and bursts into grateful tears at 11:40 pm - I made it home in one 32 hour day - it's still the 15th! I had been unable to get any sleep on the plane, so intend to spend the next several days decompressing and getting my body back on Eastern Daylight Time...

From Jim: After dropping Karen off at the airport, the taxi was supposed to take me back to the ship, but I was due for another big adventure -- the cab-wala would not take me to gate 7! The cabbie dropped me back where he had been waiting at midnight -- about 3 miles from where he was supposed to be-- so I had to walk in the dark, in the rain, make a dangerous crossing of the railroad tracks - got lost - found my way to gate 8 -- and eventually gate 7. No sleep for me this night either - India wins again!!!

Trip to the Engineering College

2008-03-19T18:12:00.002-04:00

3/14/08

Today we accompanied a small group of students (16 were signed up to attend, but only 5 showed up - always a problem when trips are scheduled before noon..) to visit an Engineering College here in the city. Formerly a Women's Engineering College, it's recently gone coed. The college is clean and modern, but unfortunately, our first impression was of the steaming garbage dump (with scavenging cows) adjacent to the golden entrance gate.

We were greeted with flowers, sprinkled with rose water and received red dots and yellow stripes on our foreheads (the meaning of which was not explained to us, but we wore them proudly). We were ushered into a conference room that contained the deans and all the professors of the college, as well as the group of students who had been hand-picked to accompany us for the day.

As the only grownups in the group, Jim and I were handed a microphone and asked to address the assembly - something Jim does with ease, but, as my status these past few months has been "spouse only", I was not really prepared for. I did my best. We were given a tour of the laboratories and shown the engineering projects the students are working on. Each of us was flanked by two students who kept us informed of what we were seeing, and peppered us with questions. When asked what kind of professor I was, I said I was not a professor, but that when I was a student I had majored in marketing. Within minutes, the young lady who had been at my side was whisked away and replaced by a marketing student, who proceeded to ask me about marketing in America!

As we toured, my student asked if I would like to see their marketing department. Sure! said I. We left the group and walked into another building, where my student (I'm sorry that I did not capture his name) introduced me to his dean. Before I knew it, I was ushered into a large lecture hall, introduced as the Marketing Professor from the University of Virginia, handed a microphone and asked to address all the business students on my subject!

Well... I gave them about one minute of what I remember about marketing, and several more on how happy I was to be in Chennai (liar liar pants on fire). Luckily, a student then asked what I was doing in India, so I talked for a while about the Semester at Sea. Whew!

Then it was back to the main group for a demonstration of Indian singing and dancing, followed by a tradional lunch on a banana leaf (lucky I had practiced in Mauitius, remembering not to use my left hand...)

We were then taken to someone's house to see a "typical Indian home". A lovely, well furnished home, it was probably typical of the top 2% of residents in Chennai. The homeowner was very gracious, and showed us pictures of her daughter's wedding (if you don't know about lavish Indian weddings, rent one of the many movies that cover the subject, like Monsoon Wedding or The Namesake).

Then it was off to one more temple, a living Shiva temple in the heart of the city. This one had all its colorful painted figures (they repaint them every twelve years) and people lined up to offer flowers and candles to the gods and give thanks for their blessings. Our guide burned some jasmine flowers, and gave us the sacred ash to place on our foreheads and to take home to our home altar. It was an appropriate last act for the day, as I am traveling home tonight

India Wins Again!

2008-03-19T12:01:00.001-04:00

3/13/08

Today is our free day, and we planned to take an auto rickshaw into the city and go to the market to shop for souvenirs. We were cautioned on the ship that many things that should be simple are difficult in India, and that it is best to not set your expectations very high. The saying here when things go wrong is, "India Wins Again!" Well, that's the kind of day we had today.

We had no trouble hiring an auto rickshaw, but we were absolutely unable to convince the driver to take us where we wanted to go (the market).

It was too far and cost too much money, he said, but he would take us to a better place! Luckily, we passed by the Basilica of St. Thomas the Apostle, so asked the driver to let us off there instead. "Okay," he said, "you flay". (We thought he wanted pay, but evidently he was encouraging us to PRAY.) He followed us into the tomb, helpfully pointing out all the relics, statues and other things he thought we might find interesting (in addition to a piece of Thomas and the arrowhead that did him in, there are relics of four or five other saints – pieces of saint that look just like dried apple slices…) As with all living temples in India, we had to take off our shoes before entering the sanctuary.

Even though I go to St. Thomas Church in Chesapeake, I hadn't known that Doubting Thomas had ended his ministry in Chennai (52 AD) preaching the Good News to the Indians until a native took his life with a spear. There is a lifesized diorama of this event in the tomb, also a lifesize image of Thomas reposing peacefully under a glass altar in the chapel. I'm glad we got to see it.

Back in the auto rickshaw, we tried again for the market, but instead were delivered to a high priced government shop that sold oriental rugs and diamonds (a little out of our price range). We found put aferward that the rickshaw drivers receive a commission for every tourist they deliver to one of these shops. By this time we were grimy, short-tempered and more than ready for lunch, so we asked to be taken to a restaurant. At this, the driver said we were costing him too much gas, and he couldn't hang around anymore. He tried to get us to pay 400 rupees (we had originally agreed to 200 for the whole day), but he went away for 100. ($1 = 40 rupees) A relief!

After a lovely curry lunch, we walked back onto the street and were immediately assailed by several new rickshaw drivers, and we thought we'd have better luck. After choosing a promising one and agreeing on a price, we were taken to ANOTHER rug and diamond shop! At this point we gave up trying to get to the market, and asked to be taken back to the ship. At this, the driver pulled over and said he was out of gas! We flagged down another driver and tried again to get home. This guy took us to where we could see the ship several busy streets over, but would not take us any closer, and wanted full pay. We got out and started to walk on the grimy road, with him driving alongside demanding money. Eventually he got tired and tootled off as we marched grimly on.

We had more than 3 miles to get back to the port (not a long distance for the hiking Franza McClenons, but not in this environment) so we got into a fourth rickshaw and repeated our request. We got as far as the railroad tracks, but a train was coming so the driver said we could go no further. Luckily the train was a short one, so as we were arguing the gate lifted and he agreed to take us to our dock. Finally! Big Blue never looked so good!

As we trudged up the five flights to the gangway, the sky turned an ominous gray, and within minutes after we boarded ship the skies opened in a pelting rain. India Wins Again!

Tales of the Temples

2008-03-19T10:53:00.002-04:00

3/12

Today we boarded a bus bright and early to visit Kancheepuram, about two hours west of the city, and one of the most sacred places of pilgrimage for Hindus. There are over 100 living shrines in the area, and we visited a Shiva temple and a Vishnu temple that dated from the 7^th century.

The Shiva temple was built of sandstone, so much of the detail and most of the colorful paint has eroded over time, but so much of the intricate detail remains that it is really amazing. At the Vishnu temple we encountered many families on pilgrimage who had shaved their heads (men, women and children) as a token that external beauty was not important. Our guide was excellent, and filled us so full of Hindu facts that I don't know what to include here.

Everywhere we went, children followed us and asked to have their pictures taken - they just loved seeing themselves on the camera screen!

A humorous aside: as our bus lumbered down the highway, a small tricycle truck cut in front of us, causing our driver to slam hard on the brakes. The driver jumped out of the bus and started yelling at the truck driver. Our guide, who was in the middle of explaining about India's history, saw what had happened, and excused herself, saying, "I've got to get into the fight with this guy." So the two of them are yelling in Tamil and gesturing at the busload of us, sitting with our mouths open, and then the busdriver hauled off and slapped the truckdriver full across the face! The guy made no effort to retaliate, and, fully chastened I guess, got back in his little truck and tootled away!

After a super lunch in a fancy resort (which looked so out of place from the rest of the city that I didn't even take a picture of it – manicured lawns and landscaping just isn't India…more like Las Vegas, but the ship spares no expense to assure we won't get sick!) we drove to Mamallapuram, which is right at the seashore, and has temples even older than the ones we saw in the morning. Several years ago a giant tsunami did much damage to southern India, but, as Indians don't build houses at the waterfront (they do not swim) the damage could have been much worse.

We got to see the biggest bas-relief in the world, called "Arjuna's Penance", which has hundreds of animal, human, god and angel images carved into one long piece of granite. The carvings had been covered by the sands of time, and were excavated by the British in the 1700s for all to see. Incredible!

Remember the $4 watch that Jim bought in Mauritius? Well, it stopped working, so when one of the hawkers outside the temple ("postcards, madam?" Elephant carving, sir?") offered to trade a picture of Ganesha (Shiva's son that has the head of an elephant) for the watch, Jim readily agreed – may the gods smile down on that deal!

Postcard from Chennai, India

2008-03-13T11:49:00.002-04:00

3/11/08

We arrived early this morning at a commercial dock, surrounded by stacks of containers from China and literally thousands of pint-sized Hundai autos awaiting export. The day is gray, and it's hard to tell if this is a result of weather or smog. There is a distinctive odor that seeped onto the ship as soon as we entered the harbor, which sort of reminded me of Brooklyn – old grime, pollution and dirty water… Jim calls Chennai "the Detroit of India."

They say there are three seasons in Chennai – hot, hotter and hottest! We are in the "hotter", but we lucked out in getting an overcast day, instead of a blazingly sunny one.

India still reflects the bureaucracy of their British heritage, so we had an extensive customs drill on the ship, and were issued "port passes" which we must carry with us at all times and present when leaving or entering the dock area.

There is nothing within walking distance of the ship but more containers and more cars, so those traveling independently around the city must hire a cyclo (bicycle rickshaw that holds two) to get to the customs gate, then hire an auto rickshaw (with a 2 stroke lawnmower engine instead of pedals) to get any appreciable distance within the city.

We were spared the transport negotiations today, as Jim took another busload of Sociology of Mental Health students to a Schizophrenia Treatment Center about 45 minutes from the dock. This gave us a fly-by overview of a good part of the city. We had been warned about the crazy traffic and the number of pedestrian fatalities and injuries (and that no one will stop for an accident unless a cow is involved!). The traffic lights are considered "suggestions", and basically, the bigger vehicle always has the right of way. Karen's opinion: worse than Brooklyn, but nowhere near as bad as Tehran!

The city contains stately old British buildings (the train station, the absolutely huge general hospital, the government offices) lots of new high rises under construction ( the I.T. boom is moving beyond Bangalore into Chennai and surrounding areas) juxtaposed with men sleeping on the street and lean-to shacks of cardboard with sheetmetal or thatched roofs. There are no sidewalks, so the big vehicles use the middle of the road, the rickshaws and motor scooters use the margins, then the bicycles, and the pedestrians do their best to stay out of the way.

We arrived at the Schizophrenia Center and were ushered into a meeting room. Unfortunately, we spent our entire time in that same room, and were not permitted to tour the facility or to meet any of the patients (a big disappointment). It turns out that there are no HIPPA laws here, no patient rights, and the doctors can medicate the patients with or without their consent. If a patient refuses to take their meds, the meds are "administered surreptitiously" by hiding them in the food! The psychologist was very accommodating and answered all our questions. The center has very high success rates for treating schizophrenia, but this appears to be because they don't treat the poor or homeless, the way we do in the U.S.

Passage to India

2008-03-13T11:41:00.001-04:00

3/6/08

Our focus on board has turned to all things Hindu as we approach Chennai (formerly Madras) in the southern state of Tamil Nadu, India. The country is a portrait of contradictions (much like our own) with a growing high tech sector and middle class juxtaposed on incredible poverty. This is the only place on our voyage where we must take anti-malaria medication even if we are staying in the city.

Here's an interesting tidbit for the females among us… Although the British tried to legislate out the caste system, the dowry system of marriage and the practice of feticide or infanticide of female children, the practices are still very much with us today. The family structure is such that having a son gives the family security for the future – a wage earner to support parents in their old age, and a future daughter-in-law who will join the husband's household. Although Indian parents very much love their daughters, they can't afford to have very many, as each one must be married off at huge expense, and will no longer be part of the family after marriage. The local saying is that raising a daughter is "like watering someone else's garden."

Globalization has made this problem worse instead of better in the last generation, as portable ultrasound equipment is very available to determine the sex of an unborn child, and abortion is legal. In some cities, the ratio of women to men is only 800 per thousand men. This has resulted in "bachelor villages" consisting entirely of working class men who can never aspire to marriage due to lack of available women. You'd think this would make women a valuable commodity, but this is not yet so. The woman's family wants their daughter to "marry up" into a wealthier or more prestigious family, and is willing to finance a huge dowry to make this happen, even if it means going heavily into debt for years (hmmm… not SO different from big American weddings…)

Due again to globalization, the prospective husband's family now wants expensive items previously beyond their reach, like new cars and appliances as well as money, and marriage may be their only opportunity to acquire these things. The husband's family can continue extorting additional payment from the bride's family for years. If their demands are not met, the bride can be doused with fuel and set afire, freeing the son to make a new match. The law currently states that if a woman dies within seven years of her marriage, her husband's family is considered guilty unless they can prove innocence!

3/8

Today is the Semester at Sea Olympics, with classes canceled in favor of competition among the different dorms (called Seas here) in such areas as Slippery Twister, Synchronized Swimming, Hawaiian Bowling (using bars of soap) The Dean Says (Simon Says) and Mashed Potato Sculpting. My personal event was the photo Scavenger Hunt. The faculty, staff and Lifelong Learners banded together to become the Silver Sea. Our motto? "We may be old, but we're gonna take the Gold!" And how did the old folks do, you may ask? We creamed the kids in the Scrabble tournament, and sustained bruises to emerge victorious in Musical Chairs. Overall, we ended up in 5^th place out of the nine Seas – not too shabby for old folks! Oh, and my event? Bronze!

More from Mauritius

2008-03-06T22:14:00.002-05:00

3/2

On Sunday we walked to the covered market where everything from fresh fruit and dried octopus, to cashmere shawls and tourist items containing images of the poor defunct dodo bird (remember from Alice in Wonderland?) were available to be haggled over. Jim had broken his watchband on the mountain the day before, so treated himself to a $4.00 replacement watch, which is still running! The negotiations in the market are tough – for a $5.00 item ($1 = 27 rupees) they start by asking $50.00 and you have to walk away in disgust and wait for them to run after you with a reasonable price. The process was tiring, and Jim says it will get worse next week in India…

3/3

Today we signed up for a tour of the native flora and fauna, and got treated to a close-up view of the annual Shiva festival that the Hindus who honor Shiva are celebrating this week. Mauritians of Indian descent from all over the island travel on foot to the Shiva temple, many of them wearing or carrying elaborate shrines to Shiva on their shoulders. Some of the shrines are so large (sort of like parade floats) that groups of four or more have to push them down the street. There are rest stops every so often on the side of the streets for the festival-bound to stop for free refreshments. While very festive and colorful (some include recorded music as well), the festival-goers caused terrific traffic jams on many of the roads, which enabled us to get some great pictures of the goings-on.

How are the Mauritians restoring their native flora, you might ask? They are pulling out everything that isn't native (in the national parks) which is just about everything. Personal opinion: they are pulling out the pretty stuff – the native plants just aren't so hot! And the fauna? It's way too late for the poor dodo bird, but the conservationists managed to bring back the pink pigeon, which was down to one nesting pair not too long ago, and now has 500. They've gone to neighboring islands to import tortoises and skinks that are pretty close to the ones that went extinct here, but many species are just gone for good.

3/4/08

For our last day in Mauritius, we visited a nursing school, an Ayurvedic hospital and a Chinese medical shop to learn about different medical practices in a place that supports four cultures living in harmony. The Mauritians are very proud of the peaceful way in which they coexist, with no racial or religious prejudice.

The highlight of the day was lunch, which was held at a restaurant that is in the home of a Mauritian family. We were served out in the garden in traditional southern Indian style. Instead of plates, the food was served on a banana leaf, and instead of utensils, it was eaten with the right hand. (Culture lesson: you only touch food with your right hand, whether you are right handed or left handed. Can you guess what the left hand is used for?) The kids really enjoyed themselves, and ate everything that was served, very little of which I could identify – there was green stuff, orange stuff, yellow stuff and white stuff, with generous helpings of naan (fried bread). Delicious!

Postcard from Mauritius

2008-03-05T22:51:00.003-05:00

3/1

We've barely caught our breath after Cape Town, and this morning we docked in Mauritius. Can you find it on the map? Look in the Indian Ocean, just to the right of Madagascar. This is the island discovered by the Portuguese, where the dodo bird used to live before the Dutch brought them to extinction in the 1600s (they really did taste like chicken!) Then came the French in the 1700s, who were there long enough to teach everyone their language and cut down the forests to plant sugar cane (still the main crop today). Then those darn British in the 1800s, who left their style of government and education, and brought over lots of folks from India to work the sugar cane.

Mauritius has about 1.2 million people on an island 20 x 40 miles long. Half the population is Hindu, followed by Muslim, Tamil (from Southern India), Catholic and Chinese. They speak a Creole sort of French, and are in the process of redefining their economy from agriculture to high tech and tourism.

The island has pure white beaches and clear blue water that looks like a swimming pool and is just as calm. They are trying to undo the environmental harm that was done by wiping out 98% of the forests and most of the native flora and fauna. This is a huge undertaking.

That said, the main city, Port Louis, is a city in transition, with some modern buildings, a lot of older, sadder buildings, a very industrial waterfront, and a busy dock area not really set up for tourists. We hopped on a bus and within 10 minutes, we were out of the city limits, and driving through mile after mile of sugar cane fields, on our way to our first adventure, climbing Le Pouce (the Thumb). Yes, there is a mountain that is shaped like a big ol' thumb's-up, and Jim and 27 students were determined to conquer it today. As there was not a cable car in sight, I had no choice but to go along…

The kids started off at a trot, and I couldn't keep up, and entertained thoughts of getting back on the bus, but one of the guides offered to stay back with me. Jim reminded me to set my own pace. I lagged behind, but after a while the kids got tired and slowed down too, and then I had plenty of company. The consensus of the girls was that I was doing much better than THEIR mothers would be able to do!

The trail up was graced with fields of white ginger and lantana, and although it was a warm, sunny day when we started, it got cool and breezy halfway up, and downright cold and windy when we reached the ridge. From that point we broke into small groups to scrabble up to the summit, which could only hold a few people at a time. One of the girls discovered she was afraid of heights, and sort of crawled up, but she made it. As always, the view from the top made the climb worthwhile.

As we started our descent, one of the boys turned his ankle and couldn't walk. Our guide wrapped the ankle in an ace bandage, but when it became obvious that the lad wasn't going to be able to walk down, the guide picked him up and carried him piggy-back down the mountain! How's that for customer service?

We had lunch at a lovely old colonial house named Eureka, which served us chicken curry and pickled olives. Then it was on to the Flic en Flac beach (named for the sound your flip flops make) for a swim in the absolutely clear blue water. A fine day.

The Company's Gardens and the Choir

2008-03-02T04:10:00.002-05:00

2/24

For our last day in South Africa, we stayed in town, shopping and walking about. We visited a natural history museum, which had more examples of rock and cave art, and spent the afternoon in the Company's Gardens – a botanical preserve that dates back to the time of the Dutch colonials (Dutch East India Company) and is filled with shady paths, fountains, lots of birds and glorious gardens.

We acquired a Sunday paper in English, and caught up on the important news (the Oscar predictions, JLo's pregnancy and the further trials of Brittany…). I was interested to read the weekly feature that highlights one brave person who went for HIV/AIDS testing this week – there is a movement in this country to get every man, woman and child tested, and if you are the brave person who goes for the test, then you challenge 5 of your friends and relatives to get tested too, and their names are printed in the newspaper.

Learning about the spread of HIV/AIDS in this country has been a real eye-opener for me – an entire generation of orphans and households run by children. The last president of South Africa denied that HIV/AIDS had anything to do with sex and wouldn't allow education on the subject, and good old George Bush offered financial aid to the country, but only if the education about AIDS promoted abstinence (not just for the young people – for the whole country!). The people started educating themselves at a grass roots level, and getting the word out about testing and treatment over their public Cape Radio. They still have a long way to go, but the work has started.

During our last evening in port, a high school choir from the District Six township came aboard to give us a concert. About 30 young people, they were dressed in faded school uniforms, and had the vocal power of 300… They opened with the benediction that my St. Thomas choir sings each week, "The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord lift his countenance upon you, and give you peace…" Anybody who knows me, knows that I was on my second Kleenex by the end of that song…

They sang for over an hour, a capella, in at least four languages, and raised the audience to their feet more times than I could count (and did some great dance moves which I'll be bringing home to show Pat and the St Thomas choir!) Their director shared that the students don't read music, they don't have a piano at the school, and learn and harmonize all their songs by ear, only using a pitch pipe. At the end of the hour, the choir sang themselves off the stage and down the gangway, followed by hundreds of SAS students yelling for an encore, The choir reassembled on the dock and sang one final song as the students hung over the side of the ship and cheered. It was a magical end to our stay in Cape Town…

Lion's Head

2008-02-29T05:57:00.003-05:00

2/25

This morning we planned to hike up Table Mountain (meaning Jim was going to hike and I was going to take the cablecar up), but the excursion was canceled as the mountain was socked in with dense fog and it was too windy to run the cablecars safely.

As an alternate, we were offered a hike up Lion's Head, which, although right next to Table Mountain, had no fog and no wind. I was assured by our guide that this hike was a "walk in the park" and that I would have no trouble – Hah! Famous last words….

Jim and I were the only non-students (read old folks) on this trip. We were accompanied by an African guide whose mother was an herbalist, and he stopped to tell us the medicinal use of many of the plants growing on the mountain (which gave me an occasional chance to catch my breath). He shared that his parents had been sheep farmers before having to relocate to the townships under apartheid.

We climbed to a fork in the path where the kids had the option to pull themselves up the sheer face of the mountain using chains – I opted to take the path around and meet the more adventurous climbers at the next rise. One of the boys didn't have a backpack, and was carrying his lunch and water, so good ol' Karen offered to put his stuff in her pack (like I needed the extra weight…)

Two of the young girls gave up halfway up and went back down to wait in the bus. The rest of us (yes, including ME) made it to the top, where the view was 360 degrees and spectacular! We could see down the coast toward the Cape of Good Hope (which is populated by cute little penguins) and out to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison. We could see the high rises of the city and the townships beyond. It was worth the sweat!

Behind us on the trail was a group of young Africans, singing and shouting as they made their way up the mountain. When they arrived on top, they joined hands and began to pray. One of our group, Carl, struck up a conversation with one of the young men, and received an invitation to visit their church in the District Six township. The next morning, Carl hailed a cab and set out on his own for the church. He was the only white face there, and was warmly welcomed and drawn in to participate in the praise service, which was held in Zulu and translated into English (Carl did not think the translation was just for him, but that they always alternated languages). He said it was the best experience he had in South Africa.

Kagga Kamma

2008-02-27T03:56:00.003-05:00

2/20

We got up bright and early for the 5 hour bus ride out to the Kagga Kamma Game Reserve, where we will spend the next three days. The day was sunny and beautiful, and the view out the windows changed from urban to suburban to miles and miles of carefully trellised grape vines (wine production for export to Britain is a big industry here). We knew we were truly out of the city when we spied a family of baboons right on the side of the road, and the road turned from pavement, to gravel, and, eventually, to packed dirt.

The Kagga Kamma Reserve is a place where, until very recently (1990s), some of the native Bushmen (Kalahari Bushmen) made their home. The landscape is one of sandy desert with sparse greenery, interrupted by jagged outcroppings of rock. It is in a group of these rocks that our cabins were to be found, disguised to look like the rocks surrounding them. Without the reflective glint of the window, we were hard pressed to see the cabins at all! There is not a tree or any shade to speak of, and the temperature is hot hot hot – over 100 degrees every day, but turning cooler as soon as the sun set.

There were 23 of us, and, after a welcome lunch (where we were joined by a curious baboon who watched us from the rocks above), we cooled off at the pool, then piled into three open jeeps and set off on a game drive. At Kagga Kamma, there are no predators, but plenty of zebra, elands, bontebok, and ostriches, which we saw in abundance. Our guide then drove us to some taller rock formations suitable for scrabbling up, from which we all had a "sundowner" drink and watched a gorgeous sunset.

Supper was held outside, with tables set up around a bonfire (now needed for warmth) and served buffet style from big cauldrons set on the fire. We enjoyed a game pie containing meat from wildebeest, ostrich and eland, which was delicious (I can see Rhonda wrinkling up her nose as I write this!) and no, it did not taste like chicken! Our cabin keys were attached to flashlights so we could find our way back in the dark, and we were warned that the generators would be shut off at 11pm, so there would be no more electricity until morning. Early to bed and early to rise, Jim and I never saw 11pm…

There was a lunar eclipse the next morning at 4:30am, and Jim got up to photograph it. After breakfast (standard fare, unless you want to know what the sausages were made of…) we went back out in the jeeps to see the Bushmen rock paintings. Jim was especially interested in these, and we took lots of pictures. The paintings date back about 27,000 years, although some were more recently made. They show the Bushmen with muscular legs, carrying spears or packs on their backs. The women are depicted with "big caboose", which is considered a sign of desirability and fertility (baby got back??). Some of the more recent paintings depicted Europeans as stick figures with big round bellies and their hands in their pockets, doing nothing! We saw hundreds of depictions of people and animals, and were told there are over 28,000 catalogued in the area. The easiest ones to see are those that were painted under a ledge or out of the direct sun. Our guide, Jacko, told us that if we touched one, he was allowed to shoot us – we were very careful!

We gathered again at 5pm for a two hour hike until sundown, which took us scrabbling up lots more rocks and enabled us to see lots more paintings. Three of the students just had to scale every rock they came to, and separated themselves from the group. Jacko had to go back for them after the sun went down – not a good place to be lost in the dark – but the story ended happily and they got back safely.

After another wonderful supper around the fire, we trooped up to the highest point, where an observatory is set up with a powerful telescope. We located the Southern Cross, Alpha and Beta Centuri, many constellations and looked at the craters of the full moon. A spectacular night!

We got back on the bus the next morning after another fine breakfast for the long ride home. We stopped for lunch at a winery in Stellenbosch, where those of us who can drink wine (that's everybody but me) got to sample different wines and comment on their "nose" and "oakiness" (how silly is that?). South Africans are not big wine drinkers, so most of the wine made here is exported to Britain. All in all, a wonderful trip!

Postcard from Cape Town, South Africa

2008-02-26T00:46:00.001-05:00

2/19/08

Table Mountain – it's huge! …flat on top, as its name implies, and it's the first thing you see when pulling into Cape Town's Victoria Harbor. The harbor area is gold and blue, clean and inviting, with upscale Victoria Mall, street singers, players and dancers entertaining while pitching their CDs, blue skies, perfect temperatures and a great place to be a tourist.

There are eleven languages spoken here, but the major ones are Afrikaans (sounds like Dutch), English (with a British accent), Zulu and Khosa (the language that has tongue clicks represented by the letters ,K and X). The most universally spoken is Afrikaans, but the national anthem is in all four languages. The monetary unit is the rand, which exchanges for about 7.5 rand to the dollar. The prices in the city are comparable to the US.

Thanks to apartheid (which became law here in 1948) and the convoluted rules that accompanied it, people here are classified as Afrikaaners (white), black (African), or colored (includes Indians, Malays, Chinese, and any interbred combinations of the above). Unlike Brazil, the colonials here imported their slaves and servants from Malaysia and India as well as from other parts of Africa, so there are a wide variety of cultures here. Slavery was abolished in the 1830s, following the British example.

On our first day, Jim took 19 students to visit a Psychiatric Hospital outside Cape Town, so we got to see a little of the area surrounding the city. The townships, where the colored peoples were relocated during apartheid, are as poor looking as you would imagine, and there are shantytowns very reminiscent of the favelas in Brazil, where rural people who want to move to the city live until they can improve their lot by getting a job. We were told that, unfortunately, people whose only skills are farming or herding sheep don't have an easy time acquiring the skills needed to survive in the city.

The hospital dates back to the days when mental patients lived long term at the center, so it has acres of grounds and lots of ward buildings. Around the perimeter is an electrified barbed wire fence, which we were told is not to keep the patients in, but to keep the gangs - who wish to steal drugs and methadone – out. The doctor who hosted our visit is an Afrikaaner who is passionate about his work, and is very upfront about the amount of post traumatic stress caused by the civil unrest in the country. He let the students interact with the psychotic patients (a no-no due to HIPPA laws in the US) and the students rated the trip "outstanding".

On Our Way to Africa

2008-02-18T04:46:00.001-05:00

2/13

The day after leaving Brazil, we had supper with our adopted shipboard kids Mallory and Porter, and exchanged Brazilian adventures. Porter hopped a flight to Rio de Janeiro, and spent his week relaxing on the beach at Ipanema, and Mallory joined a group that independently booked a trip to the Iguacu Falls (unbelievably beautiful, and much bigger than Niagra Falls). However, while still in Salvador, both kids got mugged, so they did not have glowing memories of their days in Bahia. The pervading smell of urine was also mentioned…

Now we are at sea for nine days, as we cross the Atlantic, headed for Capetown, South Africa. Our South American focus has now turned to African focus in Global Studies, and today we learned to sing the South African national anthem (which I already knew, courtesy of Paul Simon's Graceland DVD…) This gives me a chance to catch up on my reading, journaling, and sorting of pictures while Jim holds classes. I'm afraid if I don't keep up daily, I will forget where I've been and what I've seen…

The Atlantic Ocean is even bigger than you think, and a lovely bright blue now that we are away from civilization. I look daily for dolphins, whales, or any form of life from the deep, but have yet to spy anything in all this blue water.

2/14/08

Happy Valentine's Day! On ship today is Neptune Day, where the kids celebrate having a day off from class, and honor King Neptune by shaving their heads bald. Yes, this means girls as well as guys… This is an SAS tradition that takes place after we have crossed the Equator – the kids have been looking forward to it for weeks!

We sailed into an impressive storm last night, where the clouds touched down and met the sea, and the rain came down in buckets. Everything on board is rocking and rolling today as the whitecaps hit the ship and the horizon moves up and down impressively. Jim's got his sealegs, but I stayed in bed all morning. The Captain informed us that on our 1 – 10 Rough Sailing scale, today is about a 6. I don't mind the swaying when I'm horizontal – sort of like sleeping in a hammock – but when I try to walk and careen into walls like a billiard ball, I get discouraged.

We did our best to hold onto our plates and glassware at supper, while the silverware flew off the table with every swell. Just like at Busch Gardens, the kids would raise both arms above their heads when an impressive wave dipped the ship to one side and we could see only ocean on one side and only sky on the other, like they were riding the roller coaster with no hands… We had to hold onto the mattress to avoid being tumbled out of bed, and it took a long time to get to sleep. When I awoke, my internal soundtrack was playing, "Rock-a my soul in the bosom of Abraham, O rock-a my soul!"

2/16/08

Happy to say that the sea is now back to normal. Today is the day we are invited to dine with the Captain, who is from Yugoslavia and has an unpronounceable name. We got duded up in our finest (yes, I even wore a skirt!) and met the crew for cocktails, then proceeded to the dining hall, which was empty of kids at 8pm. The tables were set with real linens and there were waiters everywhere.

Guess who got to sit next to the Captain – me! We talked about fuel prices ($32,000.00 per day to propel the ship) and environmental regulations (we dump our "grey water" from showers and sinks in the ocean once we are 12 miles out, but the sewage and sludge is carried to port, where it costs upwards of $80,000.00 per port to have it pumped and processed. We are a "very green" ship, exceeding all environmental regulations.

2/18/08

We have been setting our clocks ahead by one hour almost every other day while at sea, and are feeling sleep deprived at losing that one hour over and over again. We are now 7 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time. Today we had a pre-port meeting to learn what to expect in Capetown, including some basic words in Afrikaans, how to tell a leopard from a cheetah from the shape of their spots (do you think I'm going to get that close?) and the admonition that the crime rate in Capetown is even higher than that of Salvador, and to never trust a Nigerian (their highjinks are not limited to internet scams – evidently ripping folks off is part of their national pride…) - my apologies to anyone of Nigerian extraction... Well, back to grading papers for me…

Porter and Mallory

2008-02-15T08:02:00.001-05:00

Cachoeira

2008-02-13T08:25:00.009-05:00

2/9

For our last day in Bahia, we took a trip out of the city to Cachoeira (Cash o AIR a), a little town with a lively open market, lovely 16^th century architecture, and a rural economy. The market is open every other day, as most houses don’t have refrigeration, and features everything from Hello Kitty schoolbags, every kind of fruit you can imagine (we tasted some lovely jackfruit) to fresh fish, shrimp, chicken and all parts of beef (anybody need some hoof?)

Most people work on cooperative farms, growing food for their families and food to sell at the market. We visited a house and walked through the backyard garden – in a yard not bigger than many in Chesapeake, they were growing bananas, guavas, coffee, cacao, herbs, and running a small chocolate business in the front room. The chocolate was VERY rich and oh so good – you really didn’t have to eat it, just inhale the aroma! We observed that almost every house, no matter how poor, had a TV antenna. Our guide, Frederico, told us that a TV and a CD player (for popular music) were the first “must have” items for every family, even before furniture, clothing, or refrigeration.

We watched local tobacco being hand-rolled into the finest of cigars, and got to have a toke (sorry, 60s jargon!) on a hand-rolled cigarette made with fresh aromatic tobacco. It’s easy to see why our ancestors got hooked – it smelled as good as the chocolate!

We visited the chapel of the Sisters of the Good Death, a women’s group that originated over 200 years ago for the purpose of providing decent funerals for slaves, or negotiating their freedom. The group maintains a Catholic chapel, and also practices Candomble. The Sisters, once very powerful, are now down to 20 aged members, as there is no interest among the young people in joining a group which no longer has a primary purpose to serve. We met one of the youngest remaining members who, at 73, maintains the chapel and provides a link to history. We were told that after the TV series “Roots” became popular back in the 80s, many Hollywood actors and Martin Luther King’s daughter Barbara came to visit and donated to the Sisters, but they know the end of their service is coming soon.

Happy to report that all the students made it back to the ship in time for our departure - we had a welcome back barbeque on the pool deck, with a reggae band and a special treat – ice cream! There will be no living with us when we get home – we are getting soooo spoiled!

Candomble

2008-02-11T08:53:00.003-05:00

2/8

Today we visited the Afro Brazilian Museum to learn more about the African culture that is alive and well in Brazil. Our guide, Marcos, explained the Candomble (Can dom BLAY) beliefs to us, with its 24 orixa (or eh SHA) spirits that each control a different aspect of your body and your life. (In Africa there are over 400 orixa, but here they thought 24 were enough.) The spirits have the power to cure, and also to kill… During the time when Candomble was outlawed in Brazil, the people continued to practice their beliefs covertly by giving each orixa the name of a Christian saint. We were taken to a village where we visited several Candomble houses (there is a different house for each spirit), and asked questions of the people, who were all dressed in white. These folks speak of the spirits in a very concrete way – they hear them, see them, are possessed by them and listen to their advice when making decisions every day….

The Church of Miracles

2008-02-11T08:50:00.003-05:00

2/7

Today we ventured north to visit Nosso Senhor do Bonfim (The Church of Our Lord of the Good End), built in 1745, which is the place where pilgrims come daily, dressed all in white, to ask for miracles and healing. As soon as we emerged from the taxi, we were besieged by vendors trying to sell us rosaries, saint cards and blessings. Everyone who comes to the church receives a colored ribbon, tied around the wrist with three knots; with each knot representing a prayer request. You must continue to wear the ribbon until it falls off on its own, or your prayer will not be answered.

It is a small church, not as grand as others we've seen, with lots of gold leaf and frescoed ceilings. An anteroom off the main church is a room filled with pictures of people who came for healing or were healed. The ceiling of this room is hung with hundreds of plastic arms, legs and heads, representing requests for healing of specific body parts.

When we emerged from the church, Mario (the guy who tied the ribbons on our wrists) let us know without a word of English that he was waiting for payment from us for performance of this service. He followed us around, making sure none of the other vendors went near us, as we were "his". And yes, we eventually gave him the money….

In the afternoon, we went back to the market (mercado) to give serious consideration to the trinkets for sale. There were lots of necklaces and bracelets (Eliese – no beads, just seeds already made into jewelry…), percussion instruments painted the yellow, black and blue of the country's flag, lace and table cloths, the obligatory T shirts, and very scary-looking wood carvings of African spirits, beautifully intricate.

A Ride in the Park

2008-02-08T05:54:00.002-05:00

2/6

This morning we assembled for our bus ride to Pituacu (Pit wa SU) Park. We passed through some amazing slums (amazing in that they were still standing and that people actually live in them). Our guide told us that the government here has no building codes or oversight over what is built, so people just build their own places, and add on or add up another level as needed. Electricity, water and sewers are definitely optional.

Pituacu Park is an ecological reserve that is part of the city. There is a 9 mile path (15 km) around a central lagoon, and it was arranged that we would ride bikes around the lagoon and study the ecology. Here was our group: a biologist to point things out in Portuguese, an interpreter to tell us what he just said, 30 or so students with a handful of professors, two armed guards on bikes riding our flanks, and a military police car with three armed soldiers bringing up the rear. From time to time the military police would jump out of their car and run to question any poor native walking along, or picking some fruit.

We saw little monkeys in the trees, red ginger, hibiscus, bananas and many flowers I cannot name, strange looking birds, and many kinds of exotic fruit trees. I have now tasted a cashew fruit (there is a big yellow fruit that grows under each nut – smells bad, but tastes very good) jackfruit, and several other little fruits that did not translate into English. Especially good was one that looked like an acorn and was mostly pit, but had a very sweet membrane that you chewed off before throwing the rest away.

So now, who has been waiting for one of Karen's famous near-death adventures? Well, today was my first in quite some time! About 12 km into the ride, (now remember, we are at the EQUATOR, it is HOT and humid, and we've been riding and stopping and riding in the BROILING SUN for several hours), yours truly goes into a very ladylike swoon (didn't actually faint, so no damage done) and has to be packed into the police car with the nice men with guns for the rest of the ride. Meanwhile, several others with more birthdays to their credit than I kept riding bravely onward… I was the only casualty of the morning…. How embarrassing!

Postcard from Salvador de Bahia

2008-02-06T19:04:00.002-05:00

2/5

Jim jumped out of bed at 5am to watch the ship pull into the harbor. The sunrise was beautiful. Our first look at Bahia showed a less than pristine dock area with tin roofs. We were, however, in the company of four other cruise ships that were docking today for Carnaval! (Am I the only one who didn't know that Carnaval translates as "Goodbye meat"? Think of Lent starting tomorrow….)

After one more lecture to the students (no flip-flops, no skirts, no tight shirts, be prepared to be groped, give up your valuables without protest, don't drink the water, stay in groups, wear sun screen, no earrings unless you are prepared to lose a lobe, etc.), we were cleared to leave the ship by about 10am.

Bahia does not accept American dollars, so our first task was to change some money. The cruise terminal has one money exchange booth, with a line that stretched around the building. We were told that all the banks were closed today, so we got on the line. After an hour's wait, we were able to procure some reais (at a less than optimal rate, $1.00 to 1.6 reais), then were ready to explore the city.

Bahia consists of a Lower City which is the business district, and in the hills above, the Upper City which is accessed by a huge municipal elevator, and contains the historic district, churches, and the main square called the Pelhorino. Pelhorino translates as the Whipping Post, and is where many slaves were tortured and sold back in the day when Bahia was one of the major slave markets. We learned that only about 15% of slaves ended up in North America, with most remaining in the Caribbean and in South America. North American slaves were nurtured as valuable and replaced through reproduction, while South American slaves were worked to death in the sugar cane fields and usually did not last more than 10 years. Sobering thought…. Bahia has the most African population of the cities of Brazil, and the religion is a mix of Catholicism and Condomble. (More about this later.)

We took the elevator up to the Old City, and spent the afternoon looking at handicrafts and many beautiful old churches. I'm happy to say that the handicrafts here are NOT made in China! Our lack of knowledge of Portuguese hit us hard when it was time for lunch, so we ended up paying too much in a tourist restaurant for what turned out to be a chicken sandwich and French fries (frango = chicken). Portuguese looks kind of like Spanish in print, but all the letters are pronounced differently (d = je, r = h, x = sh), so when you hear it, you have no idea of what is being said. Unlike other places that wish to attract tourist dollars, Bahians have not learned English. A challenge!

Many of our shipmates paid $300. or more to be part of a camarote – a group with a designated place to stand and watch the Carnaval. Those who did not wish to pay for a place stayed on the street, and are called "popcorn" because they jump up and down and get jostled around like popcorn in a skillet. We did not do either of these things, returning to the safety of the ship for the evening. However, we can report that the crowds were many, the music was loud and a good time was had by most. There were several mugging stories from the students, but as far as we know, no earlobes were lost!

Heading to Brazil

2008-02-03T06:31:00.001-05:00

Tuesday 1/29

When we awoke this morning, Puerto Rico was far behind us, and the sea was smooth as glass. At breakfast with Theresa and Sam, we watched flying fish jump up and skim across the water like little birds, and then saw a school of dolphins leaping through our wake.

Global Studies featured a UVA professor, originally from Spain, who now lives in Brazil. He gave a short history of Brazil, which makes me want to learn more about how the country evolved as a mix of indigenous people, African slaves and Europeans. I thought we were landing in Salvador, but everyone refers to it as Bahia. Guess I'll have to learn why!

Wednesday, 1/30/08

This morning, the wind is stronger and the sea choppier – we elected in yesterday's calm not to use any seasick remedies, but I got a bit queasy this morning and came back for a patch. How did Horatio Hornblower get by without a patch?

Today and tomorrow are "Add/Drop" class days, and I volunteered to work in the Registrar's office in the afternoons to help the student's optimize their schedules. And you worried I would have nothing to do!

Actually, there is something scheduled for every hour of the day and evening on ship – every morning is Global Studies, to learn about the music, politics, religion and culture of the area we are next visiting, "Community College" lectures every evening, language classes for the port we are approaching (just starting to learn Portuguese), yoga before supper and meditation after supper. Every night at 9pm, for those still awake, is a choice of two movies that are related to the culture we are studying.

In addition, the Lifelong Learners meet every afternoon at 5 for drinks and stuff, and we've been asked to "adopt" up to 4 students who are homesick and want to commune with the occasional grownup. Each student group has at least one evening party to which the faculty is encouraged to attend, and…. Well, you get the idea. If I allowed myself to be talked into all the opportunities aboard, I'd need a vacation to recuperate from my vacation!

Thursday, 1/31/08

I opened my email today to news that one never wishes to hear. A fellow choir member, Roy, whom I left two weeks ago in seemingly perfect health, is dead. I'm missing him.

Friday, 2/1

We will be arriving at Bahia on the last day of Carnival (Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday). The city will have been partying hard for several days, with thousands of drinking, reveling, pickpocketing, grabbing, kissing, frenzied partygoers dancing in the streets. We've been advised to remove all jewelry and watches, not to carry bags, cameras, or anything we ever wish to see again. We have to get local money from a bank, but have been advised not to carry our debit cards. What's a tourista to do? I'm thinking we stay on board until things settle down on Wednesday – what do you think?

Saturday, 2/2

Happy Groundhog Day! Today we are very close to the Equator, the sun is shining, and the kids have a day off from classes. The dining hall was empty this morning, so I'm guessing that kids will sleep in whenever they get the chance.

At 14:30, we officially crossed over the Equator. The ship's horn let out a long blast that was almost drowned out by the cheers of the students. Yahoo! We're in the southern hemisphere! I'm going to go see if the water swirls down the drain the opposite way!

Postcard from San Juan, Puerto Rico

2008-01-27T19:27:00.001-05:00

Saturday, 1/26
This morning everyone got up at dawn to watch the sun rise as we
approached San Juan. There is a huge old fort, El Morro, on the
promontory that greets us as we navigate into the harbor.

Jim mentioned to the Dean about my dental issue (my cap popped off
yesterday), and the Dean called his daughter Elsa, who lives here in
San Juan, to make an appointment with their dentist! Elsa's husband
Gary drove us into the city to the dentist's office, waited with us
and then drove us back to Old San Juan so we could resume touring.

San Juan is a totally American city, with Sam's Club, KFC and Church's
Fried Chicken, Best Buy, Radio Shack and even smaller franchises like
Claire's and Pep Boys Automotive. There was one store I don't
remember seeing in the states, called Condom World, advertised by a
billboard sized smiling round happy face wearing a condom for a hat!

Old San Juan is very different, and exists for the pleasure of
tourists, with lots of designer shops on cobblestone streets and
ornate Spanish influence buildings painted in pastel colors. The
souvenirs are all made in China, of course. The official animal of
Puerto Rico is a little tree frog that sings like a bob-white, called
coqui (ko kee). We visited the Fort of San Christobal, walked through
Columbus Square (Plaza de Colon), and visited chapels including
Capilla del Christo and the Catedral de San Juan, that Jim had
assigned to his students to visit. Next to the chapel is a park full
of paloma (pigeons) who sill sit on the arms and heads of the children
who gather to feed them. (As a city girl, I say Yuck! to that!)

There are restaurants of all nations, but of course we wanted to
sample the local fare, and Gary pointed us toward a great café that
specialized in Mufungos. These are fried plantain or casava (tastes
like potato) shaped into a shell, filled with your choice of chicken,
lamb or vegetables, with delicious sauce. Puerto Rico only makes one
local beer called Medalla, but the locals prefer Coors or Heinekin.

In the evening, we accompanied 70 of the students to a reception at
the University of Puerto Rico, where the American students shared a
light meal at tables with Puerto Rican students, and got to ask
questions and share experiences. All of the Puerto Rican students
spoke excellent English, and they were chattering away in no time.
After the meal, the DJ started the salsa music, and the American kids
danced salsa like they had done it all their lives. After a few
songs, a spontaneous Electric Slide broke out (to a Latin song of
course) and yours truly joined in!

Sunday 1/27

Up early today to catch a bus (Jim was the bus leader) to the El
Yunque Rain Forest for a morning hike. I was expecting heat and
humidity, but it was lovely and cool, more like a cloud forest, with
cascading streams and waterfalls everywhere. The trail led to La Mina
waterfall, where the kids (and some of the professors) shed their
shoes and immersed themselves in the cool water, and sat under the
waterfall for a while. The students all said the waterfall was the
highlight of the hike.

Getting With the Program

2008-01-24T08:38:00.001-05:00

We've been on the ship for several days now, and are immersed in shipboard life. The faculty had special seminars on how to teach when seasickness is a factor, which I am really not looking forward to!

Last night, 600 parents came aboard for a reception, to view their childrens' cabins, tour the ship and ask questions of the staff. I guess I was expecting to meet "rich" folk, but many of the parents I spoke with shared their struggles to give their son or daughter this great opportunity, and hoped their child would have a positive experience even though they could not afford many of the expensive shore excursions.

One mom toured the dorm sized room, with bunk beds, one dresser, one desk and three closets, and declared, "this will NEVER do!" Her daughter's stuff would exceed all the storage area, so what would her roommate do? I guess they'll work it all out tomorrow…

Now it's Wednesday, and 733 students are filing aboard, looking a bit bewildered, but definitely excited and ready to go! From time to time, we can hear a male "whoop!" as he strides up the gangplank.

Once all were aboard, we had the first of our monthly lifeboat drills – we had to don long pants, a long sleeved shirt, closed shoes, a hat and a big orange life preserver (with reflective patches and flashing light!) and line up at our muster stations, where roll was called. We got to look at the lifeboats (they look very sturdy, not at all Titanic-like!) but didn't actually have to board. Our group got commended for listening and being quiet (I did very well in nuclear defense drills back in the 60s too – who remembers those? Get under your desk and wait for the Big One!)

At 1700, (that's 5pm for you landlubbers) we cast off, and with three very loud blasts of the ship's horn, we are underway!

Postcard from Nassau, Bahamas

2008-01-21T13:41:00.002-05:00

Greetings from the Bahamas! Jim and I got up VERY early Friday morning to get to the airport, and three flights later (Atlanta, Fort Lauderdale, Nassau), here we are…

Is it winter where you are? Not here! Blue skies, balmy breezes and ideal temperatures… and where else does a three piece reggae band play for you while you stand on the Customs line? Our hotel room has an ocean view on two sides, and life is good, although they do drive on the wrong side of the road here (left is right and right is wrong, is what our friendly taxi driver told us).

We walked down Bay St. to the Straw Market, where Bahamian women offer the tourists trinkets made in China "on sale just for today!" We struck out to look for some authentic Bahamian cuisine for dinner, and found "de Fish Fry" that had just what we were after – rice and beans with Jamaican Jerk, spicy fish and a local beer called Kalik. The local speciality here is Conch Fritters.

On Saturday we boarded the MV Explorer that will be our home for the next 108 days. It is a super modern German ship built in 2002 for a Greek cruise line that went out of business after 9/11/01 due to the lack of American tourists, and UVA picked up for a song. We got a tour of the bridge (Our captain is from Croatia and the second in command is from Romania) and the ship is definitely state of the art.

When we received our cabin key, we couldn't believe our luck – we are on the top deck, in a deluxe king suite with a sitting room, a full bath with marble floors, and our own deck with lounge chairs…Wow! We thought the professors would have to travel down in steerage – this really can't be beat! All the stuff we brought stored away neatly in the long wall of closets and cabinets, and there is a maid dedicated just to our floor who sneaks in and folds the end of the toilet tissue back into a little point whenever we leave the room. This will take some getting used to…

The teachers and staff have several days of orientation and meetings before the students arrive next week. Here's what we know about the students: there are 733 undergrads from just about every state and several foreign countries, 70% female, and 12 Lifelong Learners coming along for the ride. There are 30 professors, most accompanied by a spouse, partner or family member, some returning for a second or third voyage, and also from all over the US and the world.

Well, off for my morning stroll…. More to come! Karen

Our Adventure Begins January 18th

2008-01-05T08:31:00.001-05:00

We fly to Nassau, Bahamas and find the ship very soon! To learn more about UVA's Semester at Sea and take a virtual tour of the ship, go to SemesteratSea.com. Check in here at kfranza.blogspot.com for adventure updates and pictures during the next four months.

Need to reach us? Email Karen at karenfranza@gmail.com, and Jim at beinghere@hotmail.com.