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.

Greek Islands!!

So, good news. We did get out of Alexandria, although almost an entire day late. The sea was incredibly rocky and just about everyone was in their rooms sick last night as we departed. But, we did get out, and this morning I woke up to calmer waters and a much faster ship speed (which is always fun for us). So, it looks like we'll make it to Turkey on time afterall, and none of us will miss our trips! Today has been gorgeous. The air is cool and crisp, the skies are blue with some clouds, and we have an amazing view of the Greek Islands from our ship. It actually feels almost like November finally! All of Asia was warm, and southeast Asia in particular was hot and humid. So, it feels great to finally be getting into some cooler temperatures. I can't believe we arrive in Turkey tomorrow. I love only having two days on the ship between ports! Of course, I have a lot more work to do in those two days and may have to come back a bit early to catch up, but the great thing is fewer meetings (I haaaate meetings) and fewer classes (our Global Studies class has been pretty boring, unfortunately). and I think we have reached the point in the voyage where everyone gets on eachother's nerves... so the fewer days on ship is nice, because we can take off in port and do our own thing. :)

Alex

Alexandria is often called the pearl of the Mediterranean. If you spend any time along the beaches or the coastline here, I am sure you’ll see why. The second largest city in Egypt (next to Cairo), the city was founded by Alexander the Great in 332 BCE, and was also the site of the great saga between Cleopatra, Mark Antony and Juilus Ceasar. Egypt is a nation with tremendous history, almost incomprehensible to young scholars and to non-history buffs, like me. While I am fascinated by the Pyramids in Egypt, and was equally impressed by the catacombs, and the remains of other Ancient Roman civilizations in Alexandria, I am even more intrigued by the present day people, their culture and their surroundings. That being said, it is amazing to see modern day Egypt alongside various remnants of some of the oldest civilizations in the world, and I hope the magnificent history will remain preserved for thousands more years to come.

With only two days to explore Alexandria, my friend Ryan and I quickly devised a plan of the various sites to see. It was a gorgeous day, sunny skies, and warm but not humid as it had been all throughout southeast Asia where we’d spent the last four to six weeks. I was of course, impressed first by the beautiful Mediterranean coastline and the long stretch of beaches bordering the city. We wandered around the city first by foot, and literally stumbled upon one of the most beautiful mosques I have ever seen. It was actually an Andalusian-style mosque, influenced by the Arab presence in southern Spain. The largest mosque in Alexandria, it was quite impressive, and we happened to be there on Friday, the holy day for Muslims, so we walked in just at one of the many times throughout the day that Muslims pray. Ryan and I walked up, a bit gingerly, hoping not to intrude. But the man at the door waved Ryan to come in and waved me to the side. I was a bit confused until I saw that only men were going through the front door, and the women were walking around the corner to an entrance in the back. I followed the women. I have to admit I felt extremely noticeable and awkward, and yes, a bit intrusive, walking into this sacred religious place, for which I am not a part of the faith. I found it interesting as well, that yet again the women were separated from the men. I found this everywhere.

In Cairo, I found that many people spoke English and various European languages quite well, and it was fairly easy to get directions or find your way around the city. In Alexandria, this wasn’t the case. We had a tough time trying to find our way around, at first, but we did find many nice and welcoming people who attempted to help us out. They would always ask, “What Country?” and I would say “America”. They would smile and say, “America, good!” and offer to walk us to the bus stop, or even walk us all the way to the places we wanted to see. I found this hospitality over and over again.

We’d heard the Montazah Gardens, where an old King had his palace home were worth a visit, so we took a us for about 1 Egyptian Pound (about 20 cents American) and found ourselves amidst more than 200 acres of beautiful gardens resting just above the Mediterranean Sea. Men and boys playing football in the park, female students walking round in groups, chatting, and foreigners visiting with their families, strolling by or sitting beneath the trees, I probably could have stayed for hours. It was quite peaceful, and a nice respite from the busy city streets. We weren’t able to go into the palace, but we found a nice stretch of beach down below and made our way into the water to wet our feet. I am such a water person, I wanted to get in and swim and spend my whole day there. But we had other plans…

Next on our list was a visit to the Catacombs. Everyone we asked seemed not to know what we were talking about so it took us nearly half the day to find this site. We were standing near Mansheya Square, the site of an old statue of Mohamed Ali, when several young men approached us to ask us if we needed help. (Side note, nearly everyone we saw would say, Welcome to Egypt, or “Hello”, and they were particularly intrigued by Ryan with his blue eyes, and wanted to know his name. I think they might have thought he was a celebrity or something). Finally three of the guys who spoke English quite well, figured out that we were asking about the catacombs, and offered to take us there. They became our buddies for the next day and a half.

Shareef, Rico, and Waleed took us all over Alexandria, and we had an amazing time, getting to know them, learning about Egyptian and Muslim culture, practicing a bit of our limited Arabic, and laughing at their jokes. These guys were great. Still, I had yet to meet any Egyptian women, so I was quite pleased when Esme, a friend of Waleed joined us at a bar that night (she didn’t drink, of course), and I thought I might be able to speak to her. Unfortunately, she didn’t speak English and I can’t say much or understand anything in Arabic, so I wasn’t really able to communicate much with her.

The next day, Shareef met us early in the morning at Mansheya Square and we journeyed on foot to the Great Biblioteca Alexandrina, the site of the amazing new library. Many people could have spent hours in here; it is like a museum, compete with collections of old rare books, machinery that was used for papermaking and printing hundreds and thousands of years ago, and art from both ancient and modern times. We also enjoyed the beautiful view from outside the library, overlooking the Mediterranean. But there were a few more things we wanted to see.

My favorite site by far was a beautiful old castle at the Fort of Qait Bay, resting just along the Mediterranean coastline. Here, anyone could feel like a King or Queen, and it reminded me of playing games when I was a kid, out of bits of furniture or toys outside that we would erect into a fort. Only, this was a real castle! Again, if I’d had an entire day, I’d have spent at least half of it here. The view, the architecture, the ocean breeze, it was breathtaking. And we found not just tourists, there, but in fact many local Alexandrians just taking a walk, or sitting with their friends or loved ones looking out to see. At one point, Ryan was even approached by three young university aged women, who wanted to sit and talk with him. We were so excited to finally meet some women who wanted to talk to us. They were equally as excited to have met us. They offered to teach us a few more words in Arabic and take us to have some more Koshari. The three girls were studying a little and spending the day celebrating one of their birthdays. We asked if any of them had boyfriends, to which they quickly all shook their heads, no. They are only 20 years old. When they asked if I was married and I said No, they looked puzzled and asked “Why?”. If I had a dollar for every time….

Unfortunately, while the young women were quite enthusiastic about speaking with us, it became really difficult for us to understand one another, and a bit awkward using Shareef as our interpreter, so we weren’t able to talk to them quite as much as I’d have liked. I wanted to know how they felt about wearing the veil, and what their lives were like. From what I could tell, they seemed very typical of young Muslim Egyptian women, and quite different from most university women back in the states. I wish that SAS would have offered a university exchange here, such as the one I visited in Hong Kong. Now, at least I know that I can find some middle eastern women studying on exchange in America, and talk with them there. It’s not that I haven’t done so before, it’s jus that now I will have been to their country and know a little more about from where they’ve come.

At the end of the day, Ryan and I bid our farewells to Shareef and Rico, our new Egyptian friends, and as always I was a bit saddened to leave both them and this beautiful place behind. I don’t know how I will do it, but I really hope to come back to each of these places again. I want to spend more time here.

Next stop on the voyage is Istanbul, Turkey. I am so excited to visit another Islamic country and meet Turkish people. One little problem… we came back to the ship and were informed there would be rough seas all night and we were in fact postponing our departure, We are now still docked in Alex and, and are not sure when we’ll get to leave. I hope it is soon. I am looking forward to this next adventure.

So many Mohammeds

Mohammed, in Arabic means, “praiseworthy”. Mohammed was the name of the prophet and founder of the Islamic religion, and since then, has become the most common and favored name among Islamic people. I met no fewer than five Mohammed’s in less than three days in Cairo. The first day, I felt really blessed as I was traveling alone to my hotel, and happened to run into a few SAS students from my sea. Traveling alone in Egypt was not recommended, but I found myself alone after a bit of miscommunication, and losing my presumed travel partners. That was when we met our first Mohammed. While waiting to get on the bus to Giza, Mohammed found us and chartered our group of ten in a small bus to his hometown of Giza, so he could take us to ride camels, and see the great pyramids. He knew that we were all on a budget and that we were a group of students from the US. Rather than being put off by Americans, as we thought many Egyptian people might be, instead we were welcomed with open arms. Mohammed took so much pleasure just in showing us his hometown, talking to us about Egypt and showing us his warmth and generosity. My first afternoon and evening in Cairo was spent with a group of SAS students, on the backs of camels riding into the sunset, right up to the ancient pyramids of Giza. I cannot tell you how amazing it was to see the Pyramids. But to ride up through the desert on camels and then to touch, climb and even go inside the pyramids, was like nothing I could have imagined. I never thought I would ever see the Pyramids, and I certainly never thought I’d ride a camel in the desert, at sunset, in Egypt. It was one of the greatest experiences I have had on this trip to date.
After the sunset, Mohammed took us to the rooftop of his friend’s home so we could watch the sound and light show at the Pyramids. He didn’t want us to have to pay a fee to get into see the show. After that, he took us to a Tea and Hookah shop and bought tea for all of us, while he went to find us a cab back to our hotels. I loved how the tea was sweet and strong, and the smell of apple flavored tobacco lightly dusted the air.

The second day Mohammed treated three of us to a traditional Egyptian lunch of koshari (a type of pasta with lentils, chickpeas, onions and a red sauce). It was delicious. I just keep remembering how excited he was to show us everything. He was going to take me to a wedding later that evening. Unfortunately, after visiting the Citadel and the ancient mosques in old Cairo, I got lost again, and couldn’t find Mohammed. I was really sad because he was so excited to be our guide, and I know he really wanted for me to see more of Egypt. Plus, I was back to being alone. Fortunately, I ran into some other friends and was able to join them for dinner, after some hookah and cocktails at their hotel. I felt really bad, though. Mohammed was so excited about showing me more of the city. I hope I can reach him to let him know I’m sorry for having lost him.

Back at my hotel I made friends with several of the staff there, and yes there were a couple of more Mohammeds among them. But I also met Hasim, the gift shop owner who taught me to speak in Arabic, and gave me a souvenir coin and chiclets every time I walked in. It was funny, because I was staying at a Spanish owned hotel and everyone assumed I was Spanish so they spoke Spanish as best they could to me. But even when I told them I was American, they were so excited. I told Hasim that I wasn’t sure how the Egyptians would treat us, knowing we were from America, considering all that is going on in the world. But Hasim told me that he knows the American people are not our government, and he has many friends who are Americans. He also showed me pictures from the album in his top drawer, of he and his brother smoking hookah and chatting with American soldiers several years ago. I also met Salaama, the host at our restaurant who offered to teach me some Arabic and show me around Giza. He was really excited to learn that I was a teacher and that we had brought students here to learn about Egyptian culture. Everyone was so kind. My one regret so far is that I didn’t really talk to any Egyptian women. I didn’t realize this until my last day in Cairo. Everyone I had spoken with were men. The vast majority of Egyptian women are Muslim, and probably 98% of them wear the headscarves, and some of them are entirely covered up. I felt like I stood out so much, even though I dressed very conservatively, and even wore the scarf when entering the mosques and other religious sites. After one slightly sketchy run-in with a taxi driver who I ended up telling I was not only married, but also pregnant (I quickly learned that it was best never to tell men that you are single, and if married, it’s best to say you also have children), I was thrilled to find that some of the metro cars are reserved entirely for women. I love that this exists. But in some ways I am sorry that it has to. I guess some of the men can be pretty aggressive. I fortunately did not experience this too much, but some of the students did. I just remember looking around at the women on the train and wondering what their lives are like and how they might compare to mine. If I get a chance I really want to talk to some women in Alexandria. I can’t decide for sure how I feel about the Islamic tradition of dress. It struck me as such a strange contrast that the men appeared so modern and really quite free to dress as they pleased, and present themselves as they wished. Whereas the women, many of whom walked hand in hand with these men, were almost entirely covered up. Many of these women were probably quite gorgeous underneath – it was difficult to tell when at times all you could see were their eyes. The men, many of them, were incredibly attractive (one of the last Mohammed’s I met at yet another restaurant was stunning – he gave me three chocolates at the end of the meal and asked if I’d come back the next day – Inshallah, I thought – God willing – but alas my tour of Cairo was over and I had to leave). The women’s beauty is kept hidden in many ways, and I wrestle with how I feel about that. I understand it I suppose but it really is such an odd thing for me to see the difference between men and women. Islam, who is one of our students on the ship, says that women are actually upheld in the Islamic religion, and they are quite well respected. This is of course, only if they follow the traditions of keeping themselves covered at all times, except when alone with their husbands. It would be interesting to live for some time in their shoes. I think that’s the only way to really know how it feels. I did see a great many young women who were quite fashionably dressed and looked quite beautiful in their scarves, chatting with young men or their group of friends, and I have to say they really did appear quite happy. Again, I was never approached by any women, nor did I take a chance to talk with them, so I don’t know much about their lives, their thoughts, or how they feel about their religion and culture. This is something I regret.

Something else I observed were men walking down the street arm in arm, as well as women walking down the street hand in hand. I thought this closeness and affection was wonderful, and something that in many ways is missing or would be seen as strange in US culture. I was thinking to myself how great that was, how we live in a homophobic society that would view these gestures as gay, and therefore, strange or odd, and how I wish that would change. But then I remembered in our pre-port briefing that I learned that in Egypt, homosexuality is illegal, and that made me sad. How can a society make illegal something for which you have no control? It’s like making it illegal to be white, or black, or female… (something not so far removed from our own society, in fact). So, yet again I leave this port with questions and contradictions in my head. The traditional greetings in Arabic are “As-salaam alaykum” (peace upon you), and the response, “Wa alaykum as-salaam” (and unto you, peace). I think of our Egyptian student, Islam and what a wonderful person he is, how he represents a religious faith that in many ways is so beautiful and peaceful, but is also so misunderstood (by those both within and outside of the faith). I think of all the Mohammed’s, of Hasim, Salaama, and of the women on the metro car. I think of the Copts (The Egyptian Christians who make up a tiny percentage of the population), and I think of my Coptic Egyptian friends back home, and their families who left Egypt long ago for America. I think of the wedding that I missed, and what I might have learned there, or who I might have met. I think of the sights – the River Nile, the Pyramids, the Sphynx, the Egyptian museum with the mummies, and coffins of King Tut. I think of the children on the park bench who spoke a different language but eagerly played with me when I drew a game of tic tac toe. I think of the next Mohammed I met who urged me to go home before the sun went down, so I wouldn’t get hassled on the street. And, I look forward to Alexandria, hoping I’ll have the chance to learn more.