Back home in America

Hi friends - I wrote this last blog entry a little bit at the airport in Ft. Lauderdale while waiting for my flight home, and finished it a few days later, back home in Hermosa Beach, CA. I am still adjusting, maybe even struggling a little with being back home. I have to admit I am a little sad that it is over. I miss my students. I miss the crew on the ship. I miss the people who became my friends over the past four months. It is Christmastime and the lure of the holiday season with family and good friends is beckoning... It has taken me several days, but I am slowly finding my holiday spirit. I am happy to be home but sad for what has been left behind...

Dec. 8-11
Being back in America is weird. I’ve been away for less than four months and yet I feel like a foreigner, here. Maybe it’s because I’m in Florida. Florida is a little bit weird. And yet, it’s America, and I’ve lived in this country my whole life. They said there would be culture shock, that there would be an adjustment period upon re-entering American society. I remember feeling this way last year when I returned from only two months in Spain. It felt so strange to be back in my car driving, when I’d spent the entire summer taking public transportation or walking. Driving alone in your car is something very common in American society, but not so in the rest of the world. We are an individualistic society, where everyone has his or her own car, and prefers to drive alone. Remember that scene in Swingers when Vince Vaughn and all his buddies each drive their own car to the bar? There was a time when even my family had no less than four cars registered to our address! And we are a fairly average American family. People in most other countries have maybe one car per family, and they rarely drive alone. They take buses, subways, trains, or they walk. When I was in India, we crammed five, and sometimes six people in a four door sedan. I really had to try and get over my personal space issues, there. In Spain, Japan, Turkey, nearly everywhere we went, we took trains, buses or subways where you literally had no personal space and were forced to interact with people. I remember turning my head to the side on a subway in Istanbul because I was so close to this man standing in front of me, I was afraid I’d end up kissing him if the train suddenly came to a stop! In America, we value our possessions and lots of personal space. I haven’t had that in some time, so it does feel different. It is also really strange to hear everyone speaking English. Yes, we spoke English on the ship, but in every country, every port we entered, a different language was spoken, and we could scarcely communicate with the people. We had to try to learn hello and goodbye, please and thank you, and surprisingly it wasn’t that hard. Smiles go a long way, and people were really so helpful. We stood out in each of the places and if and when we got lost or really needed help, we could always spot other Americans (usually students or staff from the ship). I look around for my fellow Americans – people from my ship. But, no, these people are not from my ship. They live here. They are bigger than the people I’ve seen in every country so far. They are louder. I realize that I am the one staring now. They aren’t staring at me. I look just like them. I am American. I see shopping malls and gigantic stores advertising Christmas sales, large bright colored signs begging shoppers to enter. I think about consumerism, capitalism, of how abundant our society is. I think of Burma where I rode to an outdoor market on a horse cart, and watched women cleaning and separating crabs and shrimp into buckets, and children selling postcards on the street. I turn on the television and I am bombarded with commercials advertising the newest luxury vehicles, high priced cellular phones and vacation packages for holiday travel. I flip through the channels and see overpaid, fame and money obsessed professional athletes arguing with referees. I can’t believe I missed television. I am lucky – I live in a country where I can walk into any 24 hour convenience store and choose from among the shelves nearly anything my heart desires. This was not so, in several of the places I’ve been. But, I really don’t care about things. I live my life for experiences, not for personal possessions or material goods. I return to America with much less money than I had when I left, and no promise of a paycheck until February. But at least I have a job, and for that I am thankful. I know that for me the next couple of months will be a struggle, as I try to fit back into American society, and at the same time try not to forget the faces of people I’ve met, places I’ve been, and friends I’ve made. I am so afraid of forgetting. I have to find a place to live, a side job to help me get back on my feet, and start to pay off the bills I’ve accumulated while away. But I knew I was taking a risk when I signed up for this experience. And I think about how fortunate I am. There is so much yet to process from this journey. What will I change about my life? How are my views different? What have I learned that I may be able to share with others? I don’t know what the future has in store for me, or what I will choose to do next. And even though I may feel as if I’m struggling right now, I can’t forget how fortunate I am to have had this opportunity. Be patient with me if at times I am sad – I am going to miss my cabin steward, Allan, my friends from the ship, and the feeling of being at sea. I am now back in California, and as I look around, I swear I see Professor Snyder walking on the treadmill next to mine, or students from the ship passing by. The people on the ship were my family for the past few months, and though I will likely never see many of them again, I will not forget them or the experiences we shared together, traveling around the world.

Almost home...

Well, the voyage has come full circle. We are about three days away from Florida, the sun is shining, the weather is warm, the waves have calmed, and it’s study day for the students, which means they are all out in their bikinis and shorts laying by the pool deck. This last stretch has been the longest yet. When everyone hopped back on the ship the night we left Spain, people were so excited to be going home. The energy was contagious, people who’d never spoken before on the voyage were all of a sudden walking hand in hand, hugging one another and chanting Ole, Ole Ole! Ok, maybe that was because they drank so much absinth at the bars in Cadiz. At any rate, people were happy and excited. But then we had some of the worst weather yet, and people weren’t even leaving their cabins. I didn’t have the luxury since I was up to my ears in details for the Ambassadors Ball. The night of the ball the ship was rocking and everyone had a great time. But the next day they had their final classes before exams, and not surprisingly, attendance was low. In our last Global Studies class, each professor gave a 5 minute farewell lecture. One cried, some wrote and read poetry about the voyage, and others continued the theme of their courses. After three days of intense waves, we have finally reached calmer seas. And the mood on the ship has taken a more somber tone. Everyone seems to be looking forward to getting home. And getting done with finals. It’s a strange place to be, because part of you wants to return home to all your friends, family, the comforts of home, and the other part of you knows you’ll miss the adventure of traveling the world, the feeling of being out at sea, with nothing but miles and miles of waves and blue sky. I’ll miss my sea, and the friendships I’ve made with students, staff, faculty and the crew. There are so many things that I will miss about this voyage. I’m still as grateful as ever that I had the chance to be here, and meet all these people, and see so much of the world. As I was beginning to pack yesterday I pulled out a sheet of paper that listed all the ports we would visit. And I remember that at the time, it was just an itinerary. These countries and these ports, for the most part, held no meaning for me. They were just cities on a map, that made a circle around the globe. Now, I can look back and remember the people of Vietnam, Burma, Japan, Egypt, everywhere. I have memories from each of these places - some highs, some lows, the unexpected, and the unforgettable. At least I hope I won’t forget.


I know that when I get home people will ask what country was my favorite or what I did in each of the ports. I’ve been working on a little Top Ten list of sorts and here’s how it goes.

Top Ten Best Overall Experiences
1. Japanese bath.
2. Kayaking in Lantau Island, with two friends from the ship.
3. Chatting with Deaf Children in Vietnam
4. Playing with kids at a church camp in Burma
5. Wearing the Indian Sari at a cocktail party in Chennai
6. Playing an Indian version of poker and just hanging out, laughing with George and his friends. 7. A night of Karaoke in Kyoto, Japan.
8. Card games and radio addresses on a sailboat with five students and 1 Croatian skipper.
9. Swimming in the warm clear waters of the Pacific Ocean in Hawaii.
10. Meeting up with friends in Barcelona and falling in love with the beauty of Sitges.


Top Five Cuisines
1. Vietnamese Pho’
2. Turkish kebabs
3. Spicy Indian food that you eat with your hands.
4. Tapas and Pinchos in Barcelona.
5. Dim sum plates in Lantau, and the coconut curry chicken soup in Hong Kong (yum).


Worst Food
1. The fruit on the ship, way past the state of ripeness.
2. The hot dogs on the ship (ok, I didn’t even try them, they looked so bad)
3. Imitation eggs on the ship (that I ate because the fruit was bad)
4. Fish heads and fish liver in Japan.
5. Japanese food in Barcelona (can’t wait to have sushi again in California)


Worst drivers / worst traffic
1. Chennai, India (Lived in constant fear for my life, nearly had a heart attack)
2. Cairo, Egypt (Did not even cross the street for nearly half of one day)
3. Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam (Actually told people to tell my parents I loved them if I died)

Safest, most efficient, and best transportation
1. Japan
2. Turkey
3. Spain

Top three friendliest, most welcoming people
1. Japan
2. Myanmar
3. Egypt

Top three most beautiful sights
1. The mosques and Haga Sofia in Istanbul
2. The Pyramids at Sunset
3. The Dalmation coast on the Adriatic Sea in Croatia

Most beautiful cities
1. Istanbul
2. Dubrovnik
3. The Hong Kong Skyline and the shores of Repulse Bay.

Best on Ship
1. My Sea Social! (Classy or Trashy, the best sea by far)
2. Sea’lympics
3. Open Mic nights
4. Transiting the Suez Canal
5. Barbeques!
6. Swimming during global studies exams
7. Karaoke in the F&S Lounge.
8. The view from anywhere on the 7th deck.
9. Watching the sunrise as we pulled into Hawaii.
10. Never getting tired of seeing the sunset on the sea.

Belle of the Ball?

Friends and family members have often heard me say that if and when I ever get married I do not want to have a big wedding. I like to have small gatherings at my home, holiday parties, sometimes even costume parties. Well, ok, I’ve said it; I do enjoy parties. But planning an end of the year Ball for over 600 people, to me, was almost like planning a wedding. For the past three months I’ve been meeting with my “event planning” committee (we elected co-chairs and sub-committee chairs way back in September) on a weekly and sometimes daily basis. We had to create a budget, select a theme, shop for decorations, design, assemble and deliver invitations, create publicity, set ticket prices, choose a diverse and tasty menu, coordinate music venues, create a slideshow, line up performers, sell tickets, assign passengers to tables, schedule two dinner seatings, a cocktail hour, the champagne toast, a dessert buffet, photos with the Captain…. and try to get ourselves ready for the Ball - which for me meant a trip to the salon and trying to remember how to tie my bright pink sari again!

As soon as I arrived back on the ship from Spain, I was back to work, with only two days to tie up all the loose ends for the ball. I was up half the night trying to work out the logistics, checking and cross checking the lists; did we really order over 400 filet mignons? Would the entertainers show up on time, would we have enough time to decorate between the end of class and the start of the ball? Would tickets be delivered to each cabin in time? There were last minute passengers who decided they now wanted to buy tickets, there were a few people who didn’t like their seating arrangements and requested another table, vegetarians who wanted to know why we were serving eggplant instead of tofu, and I was running around trying to make everyone happy. Do I sound like a bride? Fortunately I did have two fabulous co-chairs and a great committee of students working just as hard on the Ball as I was, and in the end, the event turned out to be simply fabulous!

Seeing everyone dressed up in their Indian Saris and fancy evening dresses or suits they had made in Vietnam, walk into the beautifully decorated dining room we’d spent hours planning and executing, made me smile. Everyone looked so beautiful, and the entire ship looked amazing in our Bollywood theme – the crew even made us a giant chocolate Taj Mahal! The rooms were brightly colored and adorned with saris, Indian throw pillows and colorful decorative hats. When I finally got my sari on, and made it to the second seating in costume, I was so excited to see everyone that I went around to each table snapping photos. Someone at my table asked, “Where’s Danelle”? To which another friend responded, “She’s being the hostess with the mostest”. Seriously, had I known I would have my wedding on this ship with over 600 guests, I would have registered at Bloomingdales! Now I have a bunch of photos of people eating dinner. What will I do with those?

All kidding aside, it was a fabulous event that brought together an entire community. We raised $5,000 after all of our expenses, to donate to the Students of Service Organization, the same group that coordinated the auction, and raised over $20,000. We’re now in the process of choosing several charity organizations to sponsor, and we even donated the saris to an adult passenger on board who works with underprivileged girls in America. I know I felt like a princess all dressed up in my sari, and if it will put smiles on the faces of young girls back home, then by all means, let them play dress up and learn a little about Indian culture! There is a great deal of fundraising happening on the ship; we are now in the middle of a shipwide drive for the alumni association, which seeks to sponsor low income students, and subsidize tuition for all. To many of the students on board this ship, an extra $30 or so that they can donate is the price they’d pay for a pedicure on the ship. But to most students in America $20,000 to $30,000 for one semester is a price much higher than they can possibly afford. With any luck we’ll be able to raise enough money to sponsor those same young girls dressed up in saris to go on Semester at Sea someday.

España

When I first found out I was going to be working for Semester at Sea for this Voyage I was ecstatic about the itinerary. Japan? Hong Kong? Egypt? Are you kidding me? And then I saw that Spain was the last port on the itinerary before returning to the US. How perfect, I thought. After spending all of summer ’05 in Spain, I’ve been yearning to go back. But, with only five days in each port, I’d be forced to make a decision. Do I go to a part of Spain I’ve never been, like Bilbao or San Sebastian, do I go back to Madrid, Malaga or Marbella, or should I return to see my friends and try to capture something I left behind in Barcelona? It was a tough decision, but I knew what I had to do. I wasn’t finished with Barcelona, and I had to get it out of my system.

Upon arrival in Cadiz, the flavor of Spain was at once, inviting. I was excited to speak the language (at least more than the hellos, good-byes and thank you’s I had learned to speak in the other ports). I approached the ticket counter at the bus station and the cashier’s desk at the bank with confidence. I knew I could both speak and understand far better than I could the first time I’d been to Spain. And it was true, with each transaction I grew more confident. My plan was to take a bus to Sevilla, spend a few hours there, and then take a flight to Barcelona that night. I’d spend the remaining time in Barcelona before flying back to Sevilla and finally take the train back to Cadiz on the day of departure.

I regret that I had only left a little time to explore Cadiz before departing… but I know that this will not be my last journey to Spain, and that it’s very likely I will return to this region. Andalusia is a region rich in culture and heritage, and it is in fact where my great-grandparents were from, the birthplace of many of my great aunts and uncles, and the home of many of my far extended family. The coastline along Cadiz was beautiful, peaceful and calm. With little time to explore, I watched it mostly from the window of my coach. Arriving in Sevilla, anyone would know immediately that they are in Spain. It has a very typical Spanish feel, with towering cathedrals, colorful palaces, and tiled rooftops on nearly every home. Sevilla is a rather large city, much more modern than I had expected. I think I was envisioning a village with a large plaza in the center, with flamenco dancers on the square and fresh bread baking in the panaderias on every corner. And while it ma not be difficult to find exactly that scenario in this city as well as other parts of Spain, I found instead, university students with their backpacks walking to classes, young men with baggy jeans and long sleeved t-shirts listening to their ipods as they crossed the street, and both men and women in pin striped suits walking or taking the bus to work. I stopped an older man on the street and asked him for directions to the bus that would take me to the airport. His thick strong Andalusian accent (shortened words and strong “th” sound) reminded me at once of my grandfather’s cousin Antonio whom I had stayed with last year in a little town in the south called Benahavis. It made me smile. If only I’d had more time, I could have stayed in Sevilla, or met up again with family in Cadiz or Benahavis. But, as I said before, I know that I will be back. I had to get Barcelona out of my mind.

The short flight from Sevilla to Barcelona allowed me some time to reflect on the time spent there last summer and to anticipate all the things I wanted to see and do this time, that I missed when I was there last. When I arrived at the airport, it was great, I knew exactly where to go, how to take the train into the city, where to find the metro stop. While, trying to figure out maps and bus stations and train schedules in each of the previous ports had been exciting, it was nice to finally be in a place that felt familiar. As soon as I emerged from the underground metro onto the streets of Passeig de Gracia in Barcelona, I felt almost as if I was at home. You know how the smell of a place (the air, the food, even the cars whizzing by) can bring back memories or transport you to another place in time? That was how I felt when I arrived. I had left Barcelona a year ago with tears rolling down my face. I wasn’t ready to leave yet, and I had no idea then, when or if I’d be able to return.

My flatmate when I lived in Barcelona was a Dutch girl named Melissa who came to visit me in Los Angeles this year, and has since moved to Barcelona. The plan was to stay with her, meet up with my friend Manuel, and visit some of the places that had been on my list before. I hadn’t seen Melissa since July (almost the same amount of time it’s been since I have seen most of my friends back home). But when I saw her it was as if no time had passed at all. Except that I realized rather quickly that her Spanish had improved while mine had declined. We spent the first night just catching up, and playing a board game with her roommate, Annalies.

The next day I had nearly the whole day to myself, and I just walked around the city, trying to pay attention to new sights, but visiting a few of my favorite spots, like the beach at Barceloneta, Las Ramblas, Plaza Catalunya and Park Ciutadela. Melissa and I met for lunch and had some fabulous pinchos and tapas, my favorite foods to eat in Spain. That evening I was exhausted from walking around the whole city, not wanting to waste any precious time taking a siesta. We had dinner that evening at a Japanese place, which was a little weird, but I guess you can’t eat tapas all the time.

The next two days were spent traveling to the beautiful parks of Montjuic, meeting up with my friend, and other former flatmate Manuel, going out for tapas and Sangria, and finally traveling down the coast to the beautiful, artsy little beach town of Sitges, a spot I had longed to visit while I was last in Barcelona, but never made it. It was the first time there for all three of us, and a visit we were all equally as thrilled to have made. Sitges is a gorgeous beach community along the coast between Barcelona and Terragona, with a cozy community of artists, writer, poets and yes, vacationers. The homes there were gorgeous but not imposing. It reminded me a little of some of our beach communities back at home, where children ride their bikes along the boardwalk, young couples are pushing strollers, and the people from young to old walk their dogs, sit and eat at cafes or meander through the shops and open markets. It was a refreshing little respite from the bustle of all the people, especially the tourists, in Barcelona. I wished I could have stayed there for a few more days.

My last night in Barcelona was as most last nights are, bittersweet. I was happy. I’d spent a great day at Sitges, the day before at Montjuic and I was satisfied I’d seen most of the places I felt I left behind a year ago. I had come back to Barcelona and met up with my good friends, one of whom, before this trip, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again. We went to a great restaurant in a fun little area of town I’d never been. I was a little sad. I’d have loved to have had just one or two more days there. But I didn’t cry this time. As I was leaving to get in the cab to go back to Melissa’s apartment that night, Manuel handed me a little gift – un anillo de amistad – a friendship ring, exactly like the one he was wearing that I’d been admiring all day long. I had wanted to get one for me and a friend back at home, but I hadn’t seen any while we were out, and I’d just as soon forgotten about it. But, when I saw the ring and placed it on my finger, I realized that no matter how far away your friends are, they are still your friends, and while close friends are often hard to come by, you can find them sometimes anywhere in the world. When I left Barcelona this time, I wasn’t sad at all. It was the perfect last port for me, and one I will always remember. This time I don’t feel as if I left anything behind, rather I took something with me that will always remind me of the importance of friendship. Now, I am looking forward to seeing my friends back home.


If I can just get through these rocky seas…

Happy Thanksgiving!!

So here I am in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, knowing that all my friends and family back at home will soon be celebrating Thanksgiving. It feels a little strange. Tonight we had a Thanksgiving Dinner on the ship, which was actually pretty good. I was worried because the food on the ship has been steadily deteriorating. They do a great job, however when it is a special occasion. Turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes - only thing missing was the green bean casserole! I love that stuff. But hey, I can’t complain. I will say, however, that it did feel a little like I was in the military, going through a buffet line with my dinner tray and sitting down with my coworkers at a table so far away from home. I thought about how the soldiers away from their families must feel on holidays... I guess being on this voyage has made me think a lot about war, military, foreign policy. They could have taught entire courses on war and how it has affected each and every place we have visited. There is so much that I wish would change. But I want to focus on what I am thankful for, and this year I have a lot on that list. A few days ago, it was International Day of the Child, and it was by far my favorite Global Studies lecture on the ship. I was reminded of children in my life, grateful for the new little ones who are on their way, and those who’ve been born since I left the US. I was inspired again to work harder for children’s issues abroad. There are so many children in the world who live in poverty and poor health or under oppressive governments. We have visited some of those places. There are far worse conditions out there than much of what we saw. I want to do something to help change that, and the professors who spoke that day offered so much hope, at least to me. Surprisingly, the professor I found the most intriguing was the Professor of Economics (I have never been interested in economics before). But, she talked about ways in which we can help poorer nations raise their economy, how we can encourage both private citizens and corporations as well as government to give to organizations whose missions are to eradicate or alleviate such problems as poverty, homelessness, AIDS, hunger, lack of education and health care. I was so inspired hearing her speak, and believed that with enough people out there like her, we can make a difference. I hope that the students on this voyage were struck by some of the people we’ve met, the sights we’ve seen, and the messages particularly from the lecture on that day as much as I was, and I hope they are moved to do something to help. We had an auction the other night that raised thousands of dollars that we will donate to one or more charities of our choice (I hope we select organizations that will feed and educate children, empower women, and fight oppression). I have to say though it was really strange for me to be in a room full of students who could spend $600 to impersonate a staff member, $300 to take a bubble bath, $900 on a plastic globe, or $150 to play a game of RISK with one of the faculty’s kids. And these weren’t even the high ticket items! Some students spent thousands. It is always amazing for me to see the disparity between the rich and the poor. I have certainly seen that on this trip, traveling around with mostly affluent students, but visiting countries where poverty is the norm. Still, I have met many great people. Rich, poor, old, young, American, Asian, European, African. Each has touched me in some way. There are so many things that I am thankful for. This trip is one of them. Here are a few more. 1. My family – everyone is in good health, happy, employed, loved. They are supportive and encouraging and have followed me along this journey. I miss them.2. My friends back home, who are like family to me. I’m thankful for all the emails, blog comments, letters (those really did mean a lot!). I’ve thought about you all often, and am lucky to have you in my life. 3. My job, my boss and coworkers at UCLA, and SMC, for being so supportive of my journey and for picking up any loose ends I may have left behind. 4. The opportunities I’ve had in my life to travel, to become educated, to make many of my own choices, to grow up in a safe place, to never have gone hungry, and to have lived in a society, that while flawed, affords many freedoms that do not exist for women in many other societies. 5. The friends I have made on this voyage, both on and off the ship, those who I know I’ll see again, and those I hope I will not forget. I may not have been able to outbid the student who spent $2700 for a week in Sun Valley, Idaho (even if it was for charity), but I have been given more than I could have hoped for and am fortunate in more ways than I can adequately express. I am so grateful. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Croatia and the Adriatic

Only about fifteen years ago, Croatia was in the center of a bloody war and tumultuous controversy as the republics of the former Yugoslavia fought for their independence. I can recall terms such as “ethnic cleansing”, and the tangle between Bosnia and the Serbs and Croats, from my high school world history courses, and remember fearing that the US and many civilians were losing their lives in yet another war. And though anyone you speak with there can recall the battles in detail, and tell you of land mines that still lie in the off beaten areas in Croatia, Bosnia and Serbia-Montenegro, Croatia has since retiled the red rooftops that had been bombed, and repaved many of the streets that suffered from the attacks. While many bullet holes and bombed out walls can still be seen, the beauty of Croatia and the Dalmation Coast shine through. Today Croatia remains a beautiful, picturesque, modern and fairly affluent country with gorgeous beaches, pristine lakes and rivers, green mountaintops and tons of quaint little islands dotting the coastline. During the hot summer months, celebrities and vacationers from around the world, flock to this Riviera-like coastline and turn the old cities of Dubrovnik and Split and the quiet uninhabited islands into a hotspot for adventure and tourism. During November, however, these cities and each of the islands go into hibernation. Arriving into the port city of Dubrovnik, I had no solid plans for what I’d so in Croatia. Especially with only two days in between the past few ports, and work to do on the ship, its been hard to research and plan anything. Nobody really knew much about Croatia, so it seemed the majority of us left it until the last minute to figure things out. I spent the first day in the old city of Dubrovnik, climbing the city walls which were built hundreds of years ago to protect the city from enemy fire. Today it frames the beautiful old city and provides a gorgeous backdrop for photos, and a place for Semester at Sea students to jump from cliffs into the sea (it also provided some last photos of the voyage for at least one student who was unfortunately injured badly enough that she is now being transported from a Croatian hospital to one in the Austria). Mom, aren’t you glad I didn’t jump? After spending one day and evening in Dubrovnik it became clear that I would need to explore other parts of Croatia. Dubrovnik is a beautiful city, don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed my time there very much. But, five days in just that one town, crawling with SAS students (I think we quadrupled the population with our arrival to this port) might have become boring rather quickly. So, when a small group of students invited me on a “yachting excursion” to go “island hopping” for a few days around Croatia, I decided I hadn’t had enough sailing (being on a ship traveling around the globe), and I bought in. And although this yacht turned out to be a sailboat and the excursion felt a little more like camping than “island hopping”, I was really glad I went. Besides, our skipper was a local, so although it wasn’t complete immersion into Croatian culture, at least we got a chance to get to know him and even practice a little of the native language. With two ladies and five guys, you can probably imagine the type of trip that it was. No hot water in the shower, a toilet we had to manually pump ourselves, and a kitchen the size of an airplane lavatory (wait, those are probably larger), it was tight quarters. I’ve learned a couple things about myself on this trip that I wasn’t sure about before. One, I’m not a backpacker (found that one out in Japan when I erroneously thought I could climb Mt. Fuji with a backpack not much bigger than a school pack and clothing I purchased from Old Navy rather than REI), and two, I’m not much of a camper. I like warm showers and clean clothing way too much. Ok, perhaps life on the ship had spoiled me too much (did I mention that my cabin steward cleans my room everyday and that for $5 a bag I can have my laundry done for me?) But, I am not much of a prissy girl either, and I can hold my own without showering for a couple of days. Besides we were on an adventure! We spent most of the first day sailing in the calm and peaceful Adriatic Sea. I even jumped in for a swim for a while which was really nice, even in November. The water was clean and beautiful, and it felt great to finally be back in the water. We had loaded up our small refrigerator with food and drinks and arrived at one of the small islands that evening, where we decided to cook up some spaghetti and teach our captain a few good old fashioned American card games. It reminded me a little of trips to the cabin with my parents back when I was a kid (mostly because we always had spaghetti and there wasn’t much more to do at night than play card games), and also a little like trips to the mountains with my friends back home (probably because there was a lot of beer involved). At any rate, we had a blast. It was also a lot of fun getting to know these other six people a little better. The next morning we got up early and hiked around this totally deserted island. It was beautiful, and also a little strange to be the only people there. It felt a little like Survivor. The views were amazing, and it was so peaceful. Back on the boat, we headed off to another island, where we found another beautiful old castle, and I had the bright idea that we’d find a hotel with a hot tub and invite ourselves in. Ha! Not only would we find no hot tubs, we’d find not one open hotel, restaurant, café, scuba diving shop, etc. These islands completely shut down in the winter. If we’d wanted to stay off the boat, we’d have had to rent a room in someone’s home (which also could have been cool), or we’d have had to really camp out on the beach. I was glad we had our boat; it was freezing at night! We were pretty lucky, though. The weather was great during the day, and we were able to enjoy these islands all to ourselves. By the third day, I was feeling great about the adventure, but needing a long hot shower, so it was great to get back to the ship. That evening we went back to the old city (pretty much where everything is happening), and caught the new movie, Borat, which was hilarious, and stumbled over SAS’ers on every block. I didn’t get to try a lot of Croatian cuisine (had some seafood the first night that was pretty good, heard the pizza was great), and I didn’t meet as many people in this port as I have in the others (Croatian people, though friendly, certainly didn’t go out of their way to welcome us the way they has in other countries), and I didn’t spend much if any time shopping (everything was either closed or I didn’t figure anyone would want me to bring them back tacky shot glasses, overpriced t-shirts or key chains that said Dubrovnik on them). But, I did get to have a nice relaxing time in a beautiful country, and enjoy a little down time before coming back to the ship and immediately going straight to work. Something else that happened for me in this port was that I began to really miss home. A few days, even a week ago, I wasn’t ready to go back home. I wanted the adventure to continue. I suppose a piece of me still does. It is exciting to always have a new port to look forward to. But, it also gets sad sometimes to keep leaving a place and sometimes people behind. But it really hit me in this port how much I miss my family and friends, and to some degree my life back home. No, I don’t want the journey to end, and I don’t think it ever will. I just look forward to having my real life back for awhile, until the next journey, which I hope I’ll have the fortune to make. Of course, Spain is up next, and that country holds a very special place in my heart. So, I am very much looking forward to continuing my adventure there before crossing the Atlantic and returning to the U.S.

Breakin' hearts all over Istanbul

When we first arrived in Istanbul, I was sure I was going to fall in love. First, we were docked in the most amazing part of the city, with views of incredible mosques on top of hillsides surrounding a magnificent harbor. The air was cool, crisp and fresh, and the leaves were turning beautiful browns and golds. Finally, it felt like Fall after months of heat and humidity in Southeast Asia, and the desert heat of Egypt. I even got up to see the sunrise! Istanbul is the only city in the world that is actually on two continents (Europe and Asia), plus, it is a city that you can easily walk around, and hop on and off an extensive and convenient metro system, which has recently been added to my list of criteria for favorite cities in the world. Walking through the streets, the smell of savory kebaps roasting on each corner, and Turkish coffee brewing filled the cool, blustery air. Ancient mosques with their impressive minarets towered over the city from every mountaintop. Istanbul had at once impressed me as a city that is historical, modern, cultural, exciting and beautiful. Indeed I fell in love.

I had a pretty heavy agenda for what I wanted to see and do in Istanbul. Since there was a lot there to keep me busy, I’d decided not to leave town and simply take advantage of all there was to offer. First trip was to the largest and most significant mosques – The Suleyman and the Sultenahmet, or Blue Mosque, as it is called because of the blue tiles in the interior, and the Hagia Sofia Museum, which is a kind of church/mosque hybrid – it was once a beautiful cathedral built in 550 CE, and was later converted into a mosque, when Islam took over ancient Turkey. It made me think of the churches in the southern part of Spain that have been converted from the mosques of the early Arabian influence there. Religion plays such a fascinating part of history, architecture, culture and people. The mosques were unbelievable. They are really just so beautiful, I find it hard to explain. It was interesting, too, because here in Turkey, I saw much fewer women covered in the headscarves or completely veiled. We weren’t even required to cover ourselves inside the mosques, and I was told that the traditional custom of women praying only in the small room in the back, separate from the men, was slowly coming to an end. We did see women in this section, but we also saw many women, not dressed in the veils. I cannot lie, I am fascinated by this aspect Muslim tradition and culture.

The next day I donned my knit scarf and gloves, hat and jacket, and wandered into town with my friend Kate. We’d decided to make a day of shopping at the Grand Bazaar and touring the Topkapi Palace, a beautiful and ancient former palace of one of the many sultans in Turkey’s past. The Bazaar is a huge covered market, with nearly 4,000 shops (mostly jewelry, pottery and lamps, and mostly the same items in every store). Walking through the bazaar was crazy! We had vendors calling out to us at every step of the way, “Hello, beautiful”, “Hey there, Angels”, “Can I help you spend your money?” Yuck! I was immediately turned off. And Kate, because of her white blonde hair and big blue eyes, on her nearly six foot frame, became a huge target of their calls. She had also been through the Bazaar the day before and many of the vendors had remembered her. We ran into one really creepy guy with a Mohawk who wanted to talk to Kate, and so somehow we managed to let him walk us to his friend’s carpet store nearby. I am thinking the whole time, why are we with this creep? But it turned out his friend, David, was pretty nice, and fairly normal (I think), so the trip wasn’t so bad. Except that we didn’t want to buy carpet! But, it was ok. He gave us some apple tea (they serve this to everyone in the carpet stores) and I found out that he was also of Spanish descent, only he was Jewish and his great grandparents had fled Spain from Turkey back when the Jews were forced to leave Spain and provided refuge in Turkey. He has a brother who now lives in Barcelona and owns another carpet store there, so I told him maybe I’d go by and visit him there. He asked me to call him as well if I wanted him to show me around Istanbul. I took his card and said maybe I’d give him a call. We ditched the creepy guy who had explained that he wanted to show me a few nice guys before I made my choice of men in Istanbul. Seriously? Gross. At least David was nice.

After shopping, we hit up the Palace, which was your typical collection of ridiculously extravagant works of art and jewelry housed in a sprawling estate in the center of town. The palace was beautiful, and the collection was amazing, but when I saw coffee cups that were made of gold and diamonds, I knew I had seen too much. On the way to the Palace we stopped by a restaurant, where two men were standing and called out to Kate and me. Apparently another young Turk had become entranced in Kate’s eyes and his friend (the restaurateur) introduced him to her on the street. Herself entranced with his green eyes, Kate stopped to chat with him. Being the good wing girl that I am, I chatted up his friend (though by no personal interest, I can attest). He was nice, however. They asked us to come by later for dinner and we said perhaps we would. We had also run into another young carpet salesman outside of the Hagian Sofia Museum who gave me his number and asked me to call him for coffee later. I told him we had plans that evening, but perhaps I’d call him after (I had no intention of doing so, but thought it might be easier just to say ok, than to say, I’m never going to use this – I guess the two days in between Egypt and Turkey had me all out of practice. I mean I told a man in Cairo that I was not only married, but also pregnant – what was wrong with me?)

That evening, we went to see a performance of Whirling Dervishes. I’d never heard of dervishes prior to Semester at Sea, but knew at once, I wanted to see them. They are these guys who dance around in circles, spinning to music and aligning themselves with God. It is both fascinating and rather uniquely spiritual, and something I am really glad I got to witness. Is it bad that I found one of the whirling dervishes very attractive? Probably.

After that, we went by the restaurant, because Kate could not get green eyes out of her head. We ordered a couple of beers and some plates of hummus and other yummy treats, and chatted a bit with the two guys. They wanted to take us out later, but I was tired (and not interested), so I declined and Kate stayed out. They said they hoped I’d come out with them the following night. But I never did. I don’t know. I was just really turned off by all the overt advances and men calling out to women on the streets. I couldn’t really take any this interest as genuine, and I wasn’t really looking to find a love connection. I wanted to believe that these were nice guys who just wanted to make a new friend, or practice their English with a foreigner, but they just seemed so aggressive. I wasn’t into it. And it made me fear shopping, and a little uncomfortable going to any of the touristy areas.

The next couple of days were great. I went on a motorboat cruise up the Bosphorous strait that splits Istanbul between the two continents. It was a gorgeous day and completely relaxing. Afterwards I walked around with a couple of girls from the ship, and came home early to call it a night. The next day a group of about five of us headed out to one of Prince’s Islands, about an hour ferry ride from our port – a unique secluded little island where no cars or buses are allowed and everyone gets around on foot, bike, or horse and carriage. We spent almost the entire day there, and it was wonderful.

My last day in port, I decided to take the day to myself and maybe do a little x-mas shopping, hit up the internet café, walk around the city and get a Turkish bath. Shopping was a challenge. I did not want to go to the bazaar and I was so tired of bargaining! Shopping in these cities is intense. And, gone are the days when you could bargain items down to the equivalent of a few dollars in US cash. Turkey is expensive! My walk was nice though. I went to Taksim square where tons of cafes and bookstores line the streets, and I sauntered in and out of music stores, opening and closing my umbrella in between. Though drizzly and gray, it was a lovely morning, and I was enjoying the peace. I decided it was time to get my Turkish bath. Unfortunately, the only bath I knew of was back near the Bazaar, the restaurant and the other tourist traps. Against my better judgement, I walked through the Bazaar, and happened to run right into Mohawk guy! Boy, did he give me the evil eye! He wanted to know why my friend never called him, and to let me know that David was disappointed I hadn’t called him or stopped by. Urgh. I wanted to say, she didn’t call because you were creepy! And I didn’t call your friend because I didn’t want to run into you! At any rate, I did feel bad and tried to find his shop, but if you’ve ever been to Turkey you know that there are Carpet shops on every corner and three in between, so I had no idea which shop was his at that point. Oh well.

I made my way to the bath, carefully trying to avoid the restaurant, so I wouldn’t have to hear why I didn’t call that guy, and wouldn’t you know it, I ran into the other carpet salesman who wanted me to call him for coffee! Damn. He was looking all sad and disappointed and asked why I never called him, too. Geez… I told him I wasn’t going out at night, and I had a boyfriend. But I had coffee with him anyway, and afterwards he looked so sad. I guess Kate ran into him and the restaurateur who both told her how disappointed they were that I didn’t call. Heartbreaker!! I really didn’t mean for that to happen. I was just so turned off by their aggression, and I was really uncomfortable with people just calling out to us from the street. I didn’t want to get into a strange or scary situation. I didn’t want to feel bad about it either.

I decided to skip the bath, and make my way back to the ship, stopping at some less aggressive shops to make a few final purchases. I stopped at a little jewelry shop, trying to find a bracelet for a friend of mine, and I ran into the nicest man. We spoke in Spanish (he said that his Spanish was better than his Enlgish and I looked Spanish so he assumed I was). He didn’t have any bracelets for me (which was what I was looking for), but he took a small charm that looks like a blue eye and is said to ward off evil or jealous eyes from looking your way, and he put in on a chain around my neck. He asked if I like it, I said it was nice, and he said. “No dinero. Es un regalo para ti”. How sweet. A gift! His generosity worked, because I immediately wanted to buy something from him. I looked at a pair of earrings, perhaps to give as a gift to one of my friends. And do you know what he did? He gave me the earrings as a gift! At this point, if I’d had a ton of money, I’d have bought everything in his store. He was so sweet. And he didn’t ask for a thing. He didn’t even care if I bought anything. He just enjoyed our conversation. And, you know, so did I. I found out that he was a Kurdish man from the Southeastern part of Turkey and that he’d come to Istanbul about five years ago to start a new life, with greater opportunities. His homeland has been in such turmoil and the economy so bleak that he decided to come to Istanbul and start over. I really enjoyed talking to him and learning about him, and it was a nice breath of fresh air compared to the other guys I had perceived as being less than authentic. I’m not sure who was more heartbroken by the interaction with the guys in the streets – them because I didn’t call, or me because they had called out in the first place. But my heart felt warm when I came back to the ship. And I really did love Istanbul.