A Ride through the Guatemala

Guatemala is arguably the most dangerous place we visited while on Semester at Sea. In the days prior to our arrival, students were buzzing with information they heard, like 40 murders per week and many tourists being killed. The ship gave us a mandatory 11pm curfew and banned us from going to certain areas of the country. Because of hijackings we were not supposed to be in cars at night and had to travel in big groups. Even the buses used for the ship’s field trips were accompanied by armed guards.

If this had been our first port everyone would have probably stayed on the boat in fear. Luckily for us, we were now experienced travelers, ready to take on anything in Guatemala. We had traveled for 55,000 miles (including plane/train rides) around the world through 13 different countries, heard countless languages and seen every variety crisis. The now experienced travelers from our boat were undeterred, and students arranged for beachouses and excursions all over Guatemala.

We walked down the gangway unceremoniously. There were no dancing kids, signs, or malls connected to the ship as we had seen in past ports. We only had three days and two nights here, so we immediately bartered with the horde of taxi drivers for a ride to Antigua. Wikitravel told us that Antigua is a quiet, relatively safe town about 90 minutes away from where the boat landed in Puerto Quetzal.

Our driver was a middle aged local who we began practicing our broken Spanish with. In our van was myself and six of my close friends who I was staying with. The driver stopped and got us some beers and then he blasted N Sync through the van. We thought it was hilarious this Guatemalan had N Sync and we jokingly sang along for a while. Most of the ride I ended up staring out my window at the volcanoes. The thick vegetation crawling up their sides made them into solid mounds of green.

We arrived at our hotel in Antigua shortly later. Hotel is not the right word for this place though. Even with all the Rhiads and five star hotels we stayed at while on Semester at Sea, this was possibly the most luxurious place. There was a series of small cabins set up at the base of a volcano. Right outside of our room was a black pool that looked like it was made of marble because it was so smooth and dark. A few minute walk away was another large pool with an unforgettable view of the jungle life surrounding us.

Inbetween the clusters of rooms were lounging areas. These little squares had benches circled by ferns, bright orchids, and other tropical plants. For a few minutes I sat here in awe. The dangerous and dirty streets of Guatemala were far removed. Steel bars protecting the windows were the only reminder of the perils outside.

We were supposed to climb a Volcano, but it ended up being too late in the day by the time we were set up. A group of six rich white kids climbing a volcano at night was just asking for robbery and kidnapping. Before we landed we looked into dirtbiking and found a local business we could do it through. So instead of climbing the volcano, we arranged our dirtbiking excursion for the next morning. The store owner, who also is the trail guide, interrogated us about our previous riding experience and said we needed to be skilled to be able to make it through the strenuous jungle terrain. I owned and rode dirtbikes for many years, so truthfully told him I could do it. My friends were a little more heisitant but claimed they would be fine.

Afterwards I went to a small local restaurant with three friends. We were the only people there so we had a fun time speaking Spanish to the manager. I had a delicious fajita type meal and then went out to a club. After a few hours there, I noticed it was 12:30 pm and about a hundred semester at sea kids were still there partying— so much for the mandatory 11pm curfew.

Despite little sleep, I woke up the next morning excited to go on our dirtbike trek. It had a year or two since I had ridden and I couldn’t wait. I found out my friends had lied and knew nothing about riding a dirtbike, so I tried to teach them how to use the clutch as we ate breakfast. We arrived at the meeting point to see seven brand new bikes waiting for us. I got a 2009 Yamaha 175 cc bike.

Ready to go

I slowly took off and realized riding a dirtbike is like riding a bicyle, you never forget how to do it. I looked back to see a concentrated look on my friend Jason’s face. He was the one I tried to teach how to use a clutch over breakfast so I was worried. He gave the bike way too much gas and let out the clutch too quickly so the bike pulled a wheelie and ripped forward. He smashed into my bike, pinching my leg against it and then was dragged blindly through an intersection. Finally the bike flipped in the middle of the street. We stared with our mouths open as the bike lay on the ground with engine still screaming and the tires wildly spinning.

Then, right as we’re starting to react, my friend Rory does the exact same thing! He gives the bike too much gas, pulls a wheelie, and flies across the intersection. However, instead of flipping his bike on the street, Rory swerved into brick wall going 10 mph. To make it even worse, a local Guatemalan had to leap out of the way to avoid being pinned against the wall.

I surveyed my throbbing leg and thanked god nothing was broken from being ran into. Even though we had shinguards on, I felt my jeans becoming damp with blood. However there was no time to pity myself, we had bigger issues. The nearly crushed local looked upset at the situation but in comparison to our guide (the man we told we were experienced riders) he seemed happy. Our guide was irate and leapt off his bike to lecture us. Luckily the bikes weren’t significantly damaged and we decided it was too late to turn back. This was going to be an adventure.

Our guide and I split up to teach the two virgin riders how to properly use a clutch. Eventually they sort of got it down, and we took off into the streets of Antigua. We had a caravan of six dirt bikers and one four wheeler loudly heading into rural Guatemala.

A local woman on the stone streets of Antigua

As we started riding through town, it was obvious the infrastructure was in bad shape. The buildings were made of stone and had peeling paint. There were bars over all the windows and barbwire over fences. Semis unloaded their cargo under the watchful eye of guards who flaunted shotguns over their shoulders. While on the roads, many of the semis pulled open a side flap to display an armed guard vigilantly waiting for hijakers. Police patrolled constantly and like the other guards carried a large weapon in hand. I’m not sure if seeing so many armed protectors made me feel more comfortable or less.

Despite these safety issues, I was charmed by the beauty as I rode through Antigua. The buildings were brightly dyed with pink, purple, and yellow paints. Even the deteriorating signs and peeling paint gave the city an antique feel that I found appealing. The best part was the volcanoes stretching upwards all around the horizon. No matter where you looked they were there. Floating near the tops of the volcanoes were clouds creating a necklace for the peak.

As we got out of town, our guide began to speed up. Before we knew it we were on the highway in Guatemala going 65 mph. At first I really enjoyed it, but then I began to get worried as semis flew by us and we passed other cars trying to keep up with our guide. This had to be one of the most dangerous things I did on SAS: going 65 mph in a foreign country, where we don’t know driving customs, cant read the Spanish signs, passing other cars and being passed in a desperate attempt to keep up with a guide we didn’t know. To make matters even worse, we were on bikes we had never ridden and two people in our group had never ridden any kind of dirt bike.

We went along the highway for about 20 minutes before turning onto a dirt sidestreet. The side street was much better than the highway. I was having a great time doing small jumps from the tops of rocks and flooring my bike around. The views of the countryside were incredible as well.

The only problem was wearing so much protective gear in the scorching heat. So it was a welcomed relief when we came to a stream flowing over the road. It was about ten feet wide and three feet deep. We took a momentary break and then splashed through. I’ve never felt so refreshed after getting covered in mud.

Taking a break before plunging through

Throughout the next few hours we rode down these jungle roads. On either side of us was a wall of plants. Frequently the jungle spilled onto our path with exotic flowers and vines. Rocks large enough to topple our bikes were scattered throughout the road. Throughout the day we forded about ten more streams that were similar to the first one. 

During our ride we nearly ran into a herd of cattle that was casually going down the middle of the road. Their herder was with them, and like many of the people we saw, was carrying a machete. We even saw some kids wielding these blades. The only other traffic was an occasional yellow bus or semi truck. I was shocked these vehicles could make it through the harsh terrain.

After about five total hours of riding, we stopped in a small rural town for some food. We could tell we were in a place where tourists do not go and were getting a taste of life for a real Guatemalan. The buildings here did not have the same quaint attractiveness as in Antigua. They were rusty and falling apart. A small creek of filth flowed along next to where we stopped. Our guide told us how these small towns can be dangerous. Apparently he had been robbed at shotgun point twice while giving a dirt biking tour.

Going into nontourist areas of third world countries is dangerous, but it can also be incredibly rewarding. A few minutes after stopping, six or seven local kids ran up to us and began admiring our vehicles. They became giddy when we let them put on our helmets and sit on the four-wheeler. While they played on the vehicles I ate inside a local restaurant which was more like a home kitchen. I had tortillas with fresh guacamole, corn and native beef.

 

The kids were thrilled

For the final part of our ride, we wound towards the top of a volcano. It became cold as we drove through the clouds I had earlier admired from so far below. The cloud forest was incredible. It was cooler, wetter and foggier than the lowlands but had the same density of life. Our high vantage point gave us a breathtaking view of the country we had just spent hours riding through. We made our way back down, where we were given one last dose of the frenzy on the Guatemalan highways.

When we got done I was dead tired. We had ridden through a variety of intense terrain for eight hours and 90 miles. My eyes felt like they were bleeding from all the dust in them and my body was covered in mud. The blood on my jeans from the earlier collision had dried but my leg was still throbbing and swollen. From tightly gripping the handlebars for so long my hands felt like they were permanently molded into a C shape. Still I felt great. There was only one minor fall after the initial incidents and everyone escaped mostly unscathed. We had seen more of Guatemala in this time than would have been possible any other way.

Tired but feeling good

Despite our tiredness, we could not rest. We were meeting a big group of people at a beach house two hours away. So we groaned as we packed up everything from our hotel and hopped in a cab towards the beach. By the time we were in the taxi, it was pitch black outside; so much for not riding in vehicles at night. I was more concerned with finding the best sleeping position in the car and was asleep before I could begin to worry about hijackers.

I woke up in a haze to find we had already arrived. I was too tired and it was too dark to see much of the surroundings on the walk to our beach house. I stepped inside to find everyone else rowdy and ready to party for our last night. My body ached and my muscles were stiff from the brief sleep, but I decided to ignore these signals. I hopped in the shower to wash away the mud that was still caked on from dirt biking and had a fun night of beer pong, going to a beachside bar and chilling on the beach. It was a great last night.

I awoke in pain the next morning and struggled out to a hammock in front of our house. As I sank into the hammock, I saw how beautiful of a place we were in. In front of me there were large waves crashing into a black volcanic beach. It was nothing like the crowded Hawaii beaches; our group and the other semester at sea kids who were staying here had the place to ourselves.

This is the life

The house behind me was far more impressive in the day. There was a path lined with palm trees leading to the door. The house itself was made of stone and had a roof that looked like it was made of grass. We had our own private swimming pool, four bedrooms (with mosquito nets to cover the beds), and a kitchen. All this and I only had to pay 10$ for my portion of the house. It has to be one of the best deals I had all trip.

After lounging on the hammock for an hour, we lazed into our front yard, which luckily happened to be a blacksand beach. The girls laid out while my Hawaiian buddy Dylan began to teach me how to body surf. The waves here were much stronger than I expected. They were even bigger than they often get in Hawaii according to Dylan. As I tried to get out far enough to body surf, walls of water kept battering me back towards shore.

I eventually swam out far enough only to be violently thrown as I tried to body surf. The waves tossed me underwater like a rag doll and would hold me down for 15 to 20 seconds. Definitely the most intense waves I’ve ever witnessed. I managed to ride a few waves briefly. It was a little scary, but nothing after our dirtbiking experience. We body surfed and lounged our final day away before finally heading back to the boat.

 

Trying to avoid being pummeled

On my way back, a man tried to trade a sweet Mayan mask for my sandals. Unfortunately I could not walk barefoot through this area so I had decline. Then later another guy tried to barter for my backpack, which was being used as my suitcase on this trip. They were offering me a lot more than they were worth so I would have loved to trade them but at the time they were essential items. I still got a few unique gifts before getting back home to the ship. It was sad going to the ship knowing this was our last stop, but I was too tired to think about it as I lay down for my final postport hibernation.

　

Living In America

On our day of arrival into Hawaii I was jolted up by the song “Living in America” blaring  over the intercom. It was 6:30 am so of course I was unhappy to be awake but, the song brought a smile to my face. At breakfast everyone was talking on their phones to family and friends for the first time in weeks (or even months). We were all sick of four dollar per minute phone calls. As we got off the boat students erupted with joy as they saw the familiar roads, cars, stores and foods of America.  People rushed into Starbucks like it was black friday at JC Penny. We were finally back in the States.

 

Hawaii was similar to home compared to the countries we had been in but was still very different from Iowa. The mountains created a dreamlike background for the skyscrapers of Honolulu. An ocean breeze protected us from the sun’s rays. We walked alongside the ocean and looked down on the crabs and bright schools of fish. The path was lined by white sands on one side and palm trees on the other.

 

The people also did not look like those in Iowa. Most were in only their swimsuit and dark skinned. The best part was that they spoke English. It was a little disorientating. When I was trying to find the beach I felt like I should still speak in caveman like phrases “We need beach… sand and water…beach” like I had been doing for the past 4 months. Also, whenever I wanted to buy something I had to fight the urge to barter. Hawaii was expensive so I wish I could have negotiated.

 

After wandering around for a while we rode on the bus for an hour to get to Hanauma Bay. Hanauama Bay is a US National Marine Park as well as a National Monument. As we got out of the bus I could see why. Hundred foot tall cliffs formed a protective semicircle around the bay. The cliffs nestled a glowing beach lined with palm trees. In the water I could see the coral reef and the hundreds of tourists gathered to see it. Unfortunately a place this beautiful draws many tourists.

 

 

Hanauma Bay

For many years while I was growing up I wanted to be a marine biologist so snorkeling is a thrill for me. We quickly rented our gear and flopped off into the bay. The water was as clear as swimming pool water and quite cold. We used our flippers to quickly push us as far away from the other tourists as possible. As we neared the center of the bay, far away from anyone else, we began to see lots of marine life.

 

This snorkeling trip was actually partially schoolwork for me because I had to write a paper on the different animals I saw. There were turquoise and yellow parrotfish, black and white boxfish, yellow stick shaped fish called Cornetfish, Anchilles Tangs and many others. The most exciting thing I saw was two Green Sea Turtles. They are an endangered species so it was a rare find. They were so slow I could see why they were endangered. They swam undisturbed while I hovered around close enough to grab onto their shell for about 25 minutes.

 

Afterwards my buddy Dylan was throwing a big luau at his house. A luau is just a Hawaiian party with a pig roast and local music. I was jealous of his house which is on a bluff looking over the ocean. There was a buffet of food as good as we’ve had in any country and a live band. He even had hula dancers! They pulled me and some of my friends up to the front and we learned how to hula dance. It’s surprisingly easy.

 

The next day I planned on going to Pearl Harbor but all my friends decided to go skydiving instead. I decided I could skydive back home so I laid around and relaxed for much of the afternoon. I ended up sending some postcards and walking around Honolulu in my last few hours.

 

Hawaii reminded me of how much I miss America. It made me nostalgic watching some classmates meet up with there family and friends. Before this trip I would have considered Hawaii an exotic place. Now it is the most similar place to home I’ve been in 4 months. After being gone so long it felt great to be back in America. Even the sight of Wal-Mart almost brought tears to my eyes. I miss living in America.

Getting Close to America

I just wrapped up my final port in Guatemala. It was a dangerous place and I am happy to have made it out of there alive. It was especially risky because we rode dirt bikes to explore the rural villages. I was shocked to see shotguns and machetes being casually carried around. Even children had them.

I don’t have time now to write my blog because of schoolwork. I have one final remaining and have to write two FDPs (field directed practica). FDPs are school related activities within countries. For example, in my Tropical Ecology Class I can write about hiking through the Thai Jungles. Finals have not been too bad and I think my grades are going to turn out mostly A’s.

Hopefully I will be able to write a blog for Hawaii and Guatemala before I get back. We only have five days left and lots of activities going on so it will be tough. We have finals tomorrow, the Ambassador’s Ball the next day and then preparing for reentry. The Ship just sent us a 5 page email about what we have to do to return. The US will be the most intense customs we’ve seen yet. We must go through and mark everything we have bought and write down its value.

The process of getting off is going to last for 3-4 hours and will be frustrating. It wil be worth it; I’m very much looking forward to returning home. This voyage has been a life altering experience and I will undoubtedly write more about my reflections on the voyage soon. For now though I need to prioritize and work on my remaining schoolwork.

Japan

 

 

 

 

The Land of the Rising Sun

 

 

 

 

Japan started off painfully with a three hour wait through customs that included fingerprinting, pictures, and an interrogation. We even had to walk through an infared scanner that checked our body temperature. Once through, I had some time to waste until my friends finished, so I went to an internet café where I planned on posting some pictures and my last blog. This was easier said than done. I couldn’t find anyone who one spoke English to direct me there and I had no idea where to look.

 

While wandering the streets looking I couldn’t help but notice how pleasant Japan was. The streets were clean, a band played music on a street corner and everyone was dressed stylishly. Women were in heels and expensive clothes while most men wore suits and ties. Trees and parks mixed in with high rise buildings and train tracks. Having been in third world countries for the last month I was awed.

 

 

 

 

An enjoyable place to wander around

 

 

 

 

After gawking around the streets for a while, a man directed me towards an internet café. Inside there were older men in booths playing computer games. Based on the food wrappers strewn around them and the intense looks on their faces I assumed they had been there for days. I gave the staff a confused look and they guided me to a computer. The screen was cluttered with undecipherable Japanese characters. I barely could tell I was looking at the desktop of a computer. Japanese characters, which look more like artwork to me, were trying to instruct me how to get on the internet (I think?). I called the staff over and they laughed while setting me up. After they left I had a great struggle to switch the keyboard to English. Frustratingly it would switch back to Japanese every few minutes. I tried to use my thumb drive to load my blog but nothing was working. After a wasted 40 minutes, I threw my hands in the air and headed back to the ship.

 

My buddy Dylan has been to Japan five other times and took us to a favorite local restaurant. To get food we ordered it outside in a machine. I had no idea what anything was on the menu so I just pushed a random button with fun looking characters and hoped for the best. The machine gave us a stub to take inside for them to make our food. It was pretty high tech and completely eliminated the need for waiters. Many places throughout Japan used similar methods. The food came quickly and was delicious beef tenderloin over noodles glazed with a sweet sauce. I was told everything in Japan would be expensive but this only cost me four dollars.

 

 

I then had the heavenly experience of using my first Japanese toilet. As I sat down, I felt like I was in the commanding seat of an aircraft.  There was a complicated control panel on the wall and a robotic looking light coming from the toilet. The seat was  heated and the room was spotlessly clean. A flowery smell and soothing classical music completed the atmosphere. I did my business and cautiously started pushing some buttons. A cleaning spray of warm water shot up and then a dryer turned on before the toilet flushed. What a change from the holes in the ground of India!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Japanese Toilet

 

 

 

Feeling refreshed my friends and I headed to Osaka to experience some Japanese culture. The area is famous for its octopus biscuits. The octopus vendors were all over the street, like hotdog stands in the US. They tasted good but I went overboard getting 20 of these octopus balls. I met some local kids and interacted with them for a while. Everyone seemed so friendly and polite. The trains going back to the ship didn’t start running until five am so we had the easy task of entertaining ourselves throughout the night. We ended up getting VIP passes to a place and having a great time. In the early morning I lost my friends, but a Japanese man saved me from the intricate train system.

 

On almost no sleep I managed to set off the next day. I went to breakfast at a unique restaurant. Each table had a personal grill and chef. The chef prepared beef, eggs, cabbage, and potatoes into a big pancake. It sounds strange but was one of the best things I ate all trip.

 

 

 

Beef and cabbage pancakes

 

 

 

My six friends and I then delved into the subway system to head to Kyoto. As six big white men with oversized backpacks, we were not discreet. I felt the stares and whispers of the people around us. Similar to the other Asian countries, we stood a head taller and 50 lbs heavier than anyone else.  The contrast was especially noticeable here because the Japanese population is so homogenous. I saw less Caucasians than I had in any other country.

 

We arrived in Kyoto at an optimal time. There is a cherry blossom tree that flowers for two weeks a year and we just happened to be there in this period. People from all over Japan travel to Kyoto for the beauty of these trees as they bloom. Their white and pink flowers lined the streets of Kyoto. The wind swirled the falling pedals around like confetti. Inside the town a stream was diverted through the central square. Japanese tourists lazed around while a few fishermen cast their lines into the slow currents. We mulled around the area taking pictures and enjoying the scenery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Admiring the cherry blossom trees as we walked through

 

 

 

            In an alleyway restaurant we had another unique dining experience. The tables inside were only two feet off the ground and we were given pillows to sit on. The table clearly wasn’t made for people our size and the Japanese customers were giving us curious looks as we tried to contort ourselves under the table. It was a painful experience. The food was mediocre and not worth the effort, but it was a good experience nonetheless.

  

 

Not comfortable seating

 

 

 

            We stretched ourselves out and went to a special cherry tree festival. Japanese families sat crosslegged on mats around ponds and cherry blossom trees. Food vendors were everywhere with a diverse selection of exotic foods. There were octopus biscuits, jumbalaya looking dishes, meat kabobs being cooked over fires, and a moat filled with floating cucumbers. We enjoyed the scene for a few minutes but had to rush off to catch the bullet train to Tokyo.

 

 

            I was excited to get a chance to ride the bullet train. All of the trains in Japan come exactly on time and this was no exception. The sleek, grey train came to screeching halt and we scurried on. Only a moment later this plane on wheels took off. It was the fastest I have ever gone on land. Outside my window was a blur of lights. I was fascinated momentarily but quickly fell asleep in the ample room provided.

 

            When I woke up three hours later, we were in Tokyo. The city, one of the three largest in the world, illuminated the night. I was surprised at how busy the train station was; people were shoulder to shoulder and it was 10:30 pm. We found our hotel and explored the town a bit before finally going to bed as the sun rose.

  

 

Tokyo Skyline

  

 

            We awoke at two pm, which is the latest I have gotten up in any port. I wasn’t too worried though, we had three days in Tokyo. For our breakfast we went to a sushi bar. Like every restaurant I had been to in Japan, it had an interesting twist to it. There was a conveyer belt wrapping around one main table and back into the kitchen. A wide variety of sushi dishes circled around the table and you grabbed what looked appealing. You could also shout back to the kitchen for something specific. Each plate cost only 100 yen ($1) so I ate 13 plates of sushi as my breakfast.

 

 

 

 

 For the rest of the afternoon, we wandered the Tokyo streets watching the masses of people and going into random shops. I found a 400 yen (4$) shop that had University of Iowa hats and Iowa license plates. Strangely Iowa and Washington were the only two American universities represented. We all bought outrageous gear at the store. There was no worry about ever seeing any of the Japanese people again so we had no shame at all.  We all strapped on “the sickness masks” that many of the Japanese were wearing. People in Japan wear these surgeon like masks whenever they’re ill to avoid infecting others.

 

In the evening, we decided to go to a baseball game. The tickets were relatively cheap and we heard they were a lot of fun. I don’t normally like baseball, but this was Japan so I wanted to give it a shot. As we walked into the stadium, we saw the Japanese intensely involved in the game. They reminded me of a student section at a football game with their coordinated chants and rowdiness. We pushed our way into the group and tried to chant along with them. We barely knew the team names and I still don’t know who won but I’m glad I went.

 

 

For the rest of the night, we went to a karaoke bar. We were given our own private room and went wild. Dylan had friends living in Japan who came with us and they said they had never seen anything like it before. I actually left and went to a neighboring room where I befriended a bunch of Japanese students.

 

Later on in the night, I realized I had left my camera at the baseball game. I called the stadium the next morning, and miraculously they said someone had turned it in. Only in Japan could this happen. My buddy Eric and I split off from the group to recover it. On our way back to the stadium, we found a rollercoaster twisting through the middle of the city. It weaved through the middle of a ferris wheel and around buildings. The ride seemed out of place in downtown Tokyo but we had to try it. I have high rollercoaster standards since I have ridden many, and this surprisingly was one of the best.

 

 

 

 

 

It went right through a building

 

 

 

 

 

We recovered my camera afterwards and then went to a virtual reality arcade we heard about. There were lots of hi tech video games and simulations there. Disappointingly it was similar to a US arcade, except a little bigger and more expensive. There were almost no lines, but the staff moved excruciatingly slow. We ended up spending most of our time waiting at the front of lines. It was irritating. I was more impressed by the lit up Tokyo skyline outside than by the arcade.

 

We decided to do more karaoke after we met up with the rest of our group. The karaoke was wild again and then we went to a club in downtown Tokyo. As the trains began to run at five am, we decided to go to the fish market instead of back to the hotel. The fish market was a frenzied scene with carts filled with fish going in all directions. Thousand pound fish were being sliced with saws and Japanese men were yelling at each other. We watched for a while and then ate some fresh sushi. The best part of the fish market was hopping on the back of fish carts and darting around the area.

 

Tsukiji fish market

 

By this time it was ten am and we had not yet slept. Thankfully our ship had moved from where we landed, Kobe, to the other side of Japan in Yokohama. We only had a quick train ride to catch before we began our several day recovery from the adventures we had in Japan.

 

Japan had features that we could learn a lot from in the States. Their culture is so polite it’s shocking. As I mentioned, people went far out off their paths to help us and felt ashamed to not help more. Even people with good English would continually apologize for not being able to speak perfectly. They wear masks whenever they became ill as to protect their fellow citizens and didn’t steal my camera when I left it at the baseball game. Most people didn’t even lock their bicycles up in downtown Tokyo!

 

Japanese society is also incredibly automized and compacted; probably because there are so many people on such a small island. Everything from food to train tickets is through machines. Japan also had capsule hotels; you pay a cheap price and sleep in a small tube. I wanted to sleep in one but we didn’t have enough time. I feel like a month would not have been enough to experience Japan and we only had six days. 

Aloha

Hello guys, sorry no entry for a while, I’ve been occupied lately. I was dead tired when I got on the boat from Japan and was rudely forced to do excessive schoolwork. We actually are in the midst of having our final examinations right now. I will have my blog about Japan up in about two to three days. For now I am in Honolulu, Hawaii! I am about to go snorkeling in Hanami Bay, a luau, and then Pearl Harbor.

A Glimpse into China

Hong Kong was the most modern place we’ve visited yet. Our ship was connected to a mall they forced us to walk through on the way into Hong Kong. I saw familiar stores like Toys R Us, Nike outlets, and Starbucks as I walked through. Inside the stores, everyone spoke understandable English and wore American clothes. As we exited the mall, we saw the thriving metropolis of Hong Kong. Skyscrapers were in all directions. According to wikipedia (the only free website at sea), there are more skyscrapers in Hong Kong than anywhere else in the world.

 

Traffic was hectic outside. Motorcycles were illegal and I didnt see a single rickshaw, but the roads still had logjams of traffic similar to what would be seen in Chicago or New York. One unique element for the Hong Kong streets was the double decker bus. I saw more double decker buses in my one day here than I have in the rest of my life. Once I saw seven of them waiting at an intersection. 90% of people in Hong Kong use the public transportation daily.

 

 

 

Double decker buses of Hong Kong

 

 

 

 

 

 

             To get the local feel, we decided to get a city tour on one of the buses. They gave us headphones to tell us what we were seeing and we toured the city for three hours. The bus stopped at a place called the peak, which is the highest point in the area. It was a foggy and dreary day, but luckily our view was just below the blanket of clouds. From our vantage we were eye to eye with the tallest of the skyscrapers.

 

 

 

Looking over Hong Kong from the Peak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            We rode around on the bus for a while longer before getting off at the lady’s market to shop. I don’t understand how the Lady’s Market gets its name because there are equal items for both sexes. The sellers here were the pushiest in the world, with the arguable exception of Morocco. For 15 blocks small vendors lined the streets with the usual purses, souvenir crap, jewelry, clothes, sunglasses and watches. The main difference between here and previous markets was cheaper prices. Shirts were $2-3, designer jeans were 10$, shoes $10-20 and knockoff Purses were $6-7. 

 

Even though the streets were crowded with people the vendors harassed everyone individually. If you even gave a passing glance at a shop, they would rip you in. Once inside, the seller frantically pulled out item after item and watched your reaction. If you showed even slight interest they would begin pressuring you to buy it. Then you had to go through a ten minute bartering process to get a fair price.

 

 

 

Lady Market

 

 

 

 

 

 

              I was given the difficult task of finding a purse for my mom and sister in this scene. Shopping for women is always difficult, especially when there are inferior knockoffs everywhere. After being badgered by a few purse vendors with low quality items, I found someone who said they could help me find better quality. They led me and my friend into a trashy apartment in a nearby alley. We walked up several flights of stairs to their apartment and were led through two heavily locked doors. Not the safest thing to do; I was worried about getting robbed in this isolated and barricaded location where no one could hear me scream. Still I pressed forward, determined to find a high quality purses, even at risk of my own personal safety. (I never imagined I’d write that sentence).

 

            Behind the dead bolted doors of the apartment was a woman’s paradise. There were more designer purses than I thought existed. They had Burberry, Coach, Louis Vouiton, Prada, Gucci, Dolce and Gabana, and who knows what else I didn’t recognize. The purses lay on makeshift shelves lining the walls of the room. The shelves looked like they could be collapsed and hidden at a moments notice.  I later heard whisperings that places like this steal them from the assembly lines and trucks. Not sure how plausible that is, but regardless they were much higher quality than the ones on the street. I had an intense bartering session that included me walking out three times, getting punched and pinched by the seller, and a discussion with her boss. Twenty five minutes later we left triumphantly with our purses.

 

            As we got back on the boat, the city’s skyline glowed showing the prosperity of the area. Then unexpectedly, green lasers and spotlights started beaming from the tops of buildings. Different skyscrapers began to change colors and flicker on and off. It looked like a psychedelic power surge was hitting Hong Kong. A worker on the ship saw my confusion and told me they have a laser light show every night here. Our boat was in perfect position to watch this show, which is the largest continuous laser light event in the world. I was mesmorized with the show for twenty minutes. The skyline was so impressive it could have kept my attention even without the laser show.

 

 

The symphony of lights

 

 

 

 

 

             Afterwards I headed downstairs, threw on my new Vietnamese tailored clothes and set off into the illuminated Hong Kong night. Earlier in the day there was the Rugby Sevens, which are the Super Bowl of rugby. Hong Kong was flooded with European, Australian and African rugby fans. These mostly white tourists made us stick out a little less for the night.

 

My friend knew someone from Hong Kong who directed us to the party street of town called Lhan Kwai Pang. When we arrived there it was madness. It seemed as if every tourist in Hong Kong converged to this point. I ran into countless people from Semester at Sea, along with hundreds of crazed Rugby fans from around the world. The street was crowded enough to look like Melrose after an Iowa football game. You could barely move and death by trampling was a plausible fate. Unlike the black and gold Melrose, these fans were wearing outrageous attire that had nothing to do with rugby or their home countries. They wore blue wigs, dresses, skirts, inflatable hands, no shirts, shower curtains or shaving cream. Bars and food vendors lined either side of the road but I avoided them due to their obscenely expensive prices.

 

We went into a bar where everything is made of ice. You are in an oversized freezer with chairs, tables, and counters made of ice. The staff gives you a fur coat and gloves, if you want it, upon entry. We only went in for a few moments because it was way too expensive for us, besides the street outside was far more exciting. I wrapped up my night on this street and caught a cab home early in the morning.

 

After a little sleep, I narrowly caught my 10:30 am flight to Beijing. I slept for the three hour plane ride. It’s becoming second nature to sleep when I’m on any sort of bus, train, taxi, or plane. I was awakened from my nap to the unimpressive sight of Beijing. The city did not have the towering skyscrapers and crowds of people that I expected. In fact, Hong Kong dwarfed Beijing. Beijing had the feel of a smaller town like Milwaukee but actually held an impressive 18 million people. Apparently it’s just really spread out.

 

On our way to the university we were staying at, we stopped by the Olympic stadiums. The water cube and birds nest were next to each other and both were awe inspiring. The birds nest was an entanglement of steel beams around a huge coliseum and the water cube was a blue block with an ocean pattern etched into it. I was amazed to think they created these spectacles just for the Olympics. The buildings are so unusual that many people come to visit them as if they were a monument. Our group was the only white tourists there amongst thousands from China, Japan and other Asian countries.

 

 

The Bird's Nest

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Then we made our way to the University of Peking, which is considered the Harvard of China. It has apparently been rated as the best university in Asia by a bunch of magazines. From what I saw students here do not have lives outside of school. The campus had all the amenities required for them to never leave. There were fruit markets, bread markets, convenience stores, basketball courts, clothing stores, and even a hotel within the gated walls. Shortly after arriving I went to bed. This is the first time I can remember going to bed early while in a port. It was a good decision because I needed the sleep for upcoming struggles.

 

 

The next day a few students escorted us to the Great Wall for a hike. As our bus neared the Wall, all of us students burst into a fury of yelling, pointing and picture taking. The great stone walls snaked up and down the mountains as far as we could see. The wall was truly an epic creation. It ranged from 10 ft high to 60 feet high for thousands of miles. The builders plowed through mountains, rivers, valleys, snow, and anything else in their way.

 

The section of the wall we were at went straight up a mountain, down a valley and up another mountain. Due to hasty packing I had only sandals to climb the ancient stairs up the mountain. It was a 40 degree windy spring day in Beijing. The steps were steep and exhausting. More than once Chinese hikers pointed at my sandals and laughed. I made it fine though, by the time I reached the top of the first peak I was sweating like I was in the jungle again.  I looked with pride at the steps stretching far below I had just conquered. I took a bunch of pictures, hiked down the steps, and up the other side. I even had a race (I had to go barefoot) with a friend along the wall. By the time we were done, we walked for three hours and several miles along the wall.

 

 Exhausted from our hike we piled into the bus and gave the Chinese students a perfect glimpse of Semester at Sea—all 25 of us sprawled out dead asleep. We awoke for an evening of activities planned by the university students. There were ten of them to give us insight into what they do for fun. The students all looked much older than us, the 24-28 age range. In fact, everyone at the university looked about this age.

 

We started off game night with limbo. Apparently I have a hidden talent for limbo and was the last male remaining. Hilariously, on my last time through I pulled a muscle. After all the hiking and adventurous things I have done, I end up hurting myself in a game of Limbo! Next we played the Chinese version of musical chairs, where you have to sit on the floor with three people and act like you’re rowing a boat or eating with chopsticks. Following that was a contest where you were fed by someone who was blindfolded. I was upset because I got second place. Our guides favorite game, that he was really excited to teach us, is where you find a male with long hair and try to tie as many pony tails as you can on his head. To wrap things up we did a human knot and taught the Chinese students how to do the solja boy dance. Their dancing skills made me feel much better about myself.

 

 

Having fun and laughing at a friend who fell

 

 

 

 

 

            The local students had schoolwork to do so their night ended at 8:30 pm while ours was just beginning. I wanted to see what Beijing had to offer so a bunch of friends I had recently met and I went out to a place called Propoganda (how ironic). The staff was excited to see us and gave my friends and I VIP cards. The cards gave us free cover and half off on drinks. We got them either because we were foreigners or because I was the only guy with seven girls.

 

            We danced for a while, and then I met some local kids my age who taught me a Chinese game involving dice. Looking around the venue I saw almost every table intensely playing this game. It was a lot like the card game BS we play in the States. I taught them a few of the card games American youth play like Circle of Death (aka Kings cup/Waterfall). Watching them do “Never have I ever” was quite humorous. They loved it and I made some new friends in the process.

 

            The next day I awoke in the early morning for more sightseeing. We started off by going to the Forbidden Temple. This is the place the emperor used to live. At that time only royalty were allowed on the grounds, hence the name The Forbidden Temple. The area was a huge estate. It was a 25 minute walk from the north to south end and nearly as long from side to side. Inside were banquet halls, statues, temples, and housing for the most prominent citizens of ancient China. The structures are exquisitely adorned with gold roofs, red pillars, and blue walls displaying intricately engraved designs.

 

 

Part of the Courtyard

 

 

 

 

 

            We went to two other royal estates, the Summer Palace and the Temple of Heaven. Both were similar to the first temple, having massive grounds scattered with extravagant buildings. The summer palace was especially impressive. It was basically a summer retreat for royalty and sat alongside of a lake. The summer temple was alive with bands playing the Chinese national anthem and women whirling colorful ribbons.

 

            Afterwards we went to a dinner that was typical of what we ate throughout the trip. We sat around a table with a spinning piece of glass in the middle. On this table was an excessive array of dishes. Each person had a small tea set sized plate and chopsticks. For proper use you spin the middle of the table around to the food of your choice, shovel a few bites worth onto your plate, eat and then repeat. I really liked the concept; it was like a buffet at your fingertips. The food was shrimp, fish (with head and tail attached to show completeness), spicy beef, rice, unfamiliar vegetables, wantons, tofu, peking duck, gooey eggdrop soup and curry. They brought us out more than we could eat at every meal. Many people were grossed out by random vegetables that they were convinced were horse intestines or other overly dramatic things.

 

 

Our private buffet

 

 

 

 

 

 

To be blunt, the food was the worst I’ve had, with the possible exception of Spain. Not because it was bad, it just wasn’t exceptional like much of the food. Another thing that upset me was I could never eat fast enough with chopsticks. I would eat as fast as I could for 25 minutes straight and still not be full when we got up to leave. I now consider myself skilled with chopsticks, but they are not the utensil of choice for mass consumption.

 

            That night we went to a famous acrobatics show in downtown Beijing. The acrobats did things like one handed handstands on top of two other people doing handstands all while hovering on a platform 30 ft in the air. There were Chinese women who were more flexible than should be humanly possible and they fit 13 people onto a bicycle at one point. The coolest part of the show was how they incorporated lasers into it. They had a machine shooting them in all directions, colors, and designs. It created tubes of light and other brilliant displays. The show ended up being much better than I anticipated.

 

 

 

The lasers were the best part

 

 

 

 

            As I walked back into my room, I met some Americans studying here and went on the town with them. The night was similar to the one before with Chinese dice games and dancing. Earlier in the trip I noticed some basketball courts near our dorms.  I wanted to test my skills here but the only time we had left was this last morning. This was probably the only chance ill have in my entire life to play basketball in China so I skipped sleeping and hit the courts at 6:30 am. Even with zero hours of sleep, I dominated these tiny Asians. At one point, the biggest guy there thought he could post me up, and I crushed his fantasy by swatting his shot to half court four times in a row. All the local people watching started hooting and yelling in Mandarin as it happened. It was quite an ego booster playing on the courts of China.

 

            A few hours later I went to Tiananmen Square, exhausted, but still excited to explore. It is the one the largest city centers in the entire world. I was not that impressed because it was basically just an open area with thousands of tourists. It has an important place in Chinese history so I am glad I was able to look around briefly but I couldn’t have stayed for more than an hour.

 

 To end the day we went shopping at the Pearl Market. The names of Markets make no sense here; the Pearl Market had everything in it, not just pearls. The pearl market especially had electronics. I debated buying a camera for my sister for about 2/3 the price it costs in America but decided I didn’t trust the quality. They had watches, clothes, jewelry, memory cards, USB drives, makeup, t-shirts, shoes, backpacks and everything else. These markets are the Wal-Mart of China—you can get anything. The only problem is you need to barter for 15 minutes for a fair price. Afterwards we caught a plane to Shanghai to meet up with the ship. By the time we got there I had been up for 40 hours straight. I went into my usual post-country coma to try and recover before Japan.

 

China was a great experience for me. The people here are highly driven and focus themselves upon specific tasks with a vigor unseen in America. Many of the students were jealous that our scholastic programs were flexible enough to allow for Semester at Sea. In China this would never be possible. You pick your scholastic specialty early on and do not deviate. This is one big difference between their academic system and ours. They learn the intricacies of one field while we study a broad spectrum of subjects.

 

  I spoke in depth with one of our tour guides, who was also a student, to receive some insight into how Americans act compared to Chinese. She mentioned that when she has Chinese tourists they always immediately quiet down when she talks, follow directly behind her, and obey her commands. All the Chinese students I met were quiet and respectful, which goes along with what she said. They are used to a more authoritative system.

 

The student guide said Americans like having freedom and at times demand changes in the itinerary that a Chinese person would never do. She also commented on how adaptable Americans are. She has had Semester at Sea students for the previous few years and mentioned we are some of the most versatile and street smart people in the world. We will wander the city, not knowing the language, layout or culture and be fine. Also we are much more extroverted than locals. For example, everyone in our group bought local clothes or hats and ran around yelling and having fun with them. Throughout my trip multiple other Chinese people commented on how free we act. Things like walking up and talking to a group of strangers or wandering off alone were unexpected here.

 

I will be in Japan tomorrow following one of my best friends, Dylan, who has been there five times. I am lucky to have someone who knows the layout and language a little bit. He has mapped out an itinerary for us to follow and we will be going to Kobe, Tokyo, and Yokohama. I tried to buy all my souvenir stuff in China and Vietnam where it is cheapest because I heard Japan is ridiculously expensive.

 

            My time on the boat is flying by recently. We have been going from country to country with almost no break in between. I hate to say it but I wish we could stay on the boat for a few more days to rest up and catch up. We get back to the US in one month. I’m ready to go home but not ready to leave the ship. I know, makes no sense to me either. No time to think about that now though, when I wake up tomorrow morning we will be in Japan.

           

China/Japan

Im sitting in an internet cafe next to a bunch of old men playing warcraft right now. The keyboards and computers are ridiculously hard to use. I cant figure out how to upload my pictures or even find my computer on these things. So its going to have to be after Japan (5 or so days) when I upload my blog and pictures from China. I hiked 2 miles up mountains in sandals and played musical chairs with chinese students. Heading to Tokyo, kobe and Kyoto in the next few days.

Vietnam: My experience through Haolong Bay

The Jug of Snakewine

We braced for the usual taxi rush as we left the ship in Vietnam. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself when I saw a shouting crowd of Vietnamese men waiting just past the guards. I guess motorbike is the taxi of choice here about twenty of them were lined up. We had five people with us and wanted a taxi but they ganged up and held the doors shut on the nearby taxi we tried to get in.  We argued for a while before realizing they would not let us go by “normal” car taxi. We decided to walk into town.

 

 

 

 

 

            The streets in Vietnam were overflowing with these motorbikes. You could hear their engines screaming and smell their exhaust at all times. Crossing the street was an adventure. There’s always a stream of motorbikes driving by so you’re forced to cross through the heavy traffic. The technique I learned was to walk at a constant pace so the drivers can anticipate your path and swerve around you. I felt like I was crossing a motorcycle race with my eyes closed.

 

Motorbike Madness

 

            We had a few hours to burn so we looked around through the shops on the way into the city. There were signs greeting saying “Big SAS Discount” or “Welcome Semester at Sea.” We looked through a few and before deciding to make our way to the main market.

 

 Inside was the usual chaos of a third world mall. Everyone was yelling and grabbing at us to buy fake northface backpacks, northface coats, long and short sleeve polos, purses, pearls, and all sorts of trinkets. Prices were more than I expected but still cheap. For example, I bought two tailored suits, three tailored  button up shirts, and three ties for $210. Northface heavy duty backpacks were $20 and t-shirts and button ups costed $2-6.

 

The Market Frenzy

 

It is difficult to shop in this environment. Many items are low quality; vendors use glue instead of stitching or lie about what materials they used. I know several girls who bought purses that fell into pieces after a few days. Another reason it’s difficult to shop in these markets though because you cannot browse. You have to ask a clerk what price something is and then try and barter down. After the bartering they assume you want to buy it, even if you were just trying to scan for prices. Sometimes they actually get quite upset. I can’t wait to walk into a fixed price store back home.

 

            After getting fitted for my suit and shopping around we headed out to the airport for our main excursion in Vietnam—Haolong Bay. This was my ninth plane ride in two months so I’m getting pretty used to it. We arrived in Hanoi, the capital city of Vietnam at about 10 pm. The town was black and desolate. There were no people or motorbikes in the streets and the buildings were boarded shut. It looked like a ghost town.

 

            We managed to find an open club where we were the only white people. It was a fun place with many dancing Vietnamese. I met a local who bought me one of the 4$ drinks. I felt a little unwelcomed here though. One man dressed in an army uniform kept trying to push us into the corner and another grabbed my camera when I took a picture. I fought tug of war style with him over it and won. He scowled and yelled something as he walked away.

 

After all this we hopped on motorbikes to get home. We handed them our hotel card and said take us here. They dropped us off and we paid our one dollar fee. Once inside we realized it was the wrong hotel! It was the same name and layout but the wrong place. After some difficult communication and hand gestures the hotel manager guided us in the right direction. Traveling is hectic when you don’t speak the same language.

 

On the ride home--please notice the sandwhich in my hand

 

            The next morning we set off for our houseboat around Haolong Bay. We arrived and saw hundreds of boats crammed onto the docks. The boats looked to be mass produced wooden galleons. All of them had Vietnamese flags flying above them. As we walked onto our boat we all bought traditional Vietnamese rice hats at for one dollar.

 

Rice hats

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When we first got on our boat we began running around it like giddy school kids. Our boat was apparently brand new. It had a restaurant style dining room, eight staff members, air conditioned cabins and a sundeck with beds and chairs. It was a floating hotel. Just like I was dreaming the staff immediately sat us down for a six course meal. We had prawns, shrimp, rice, fish, curry, fresh pineapple, soup and chicken.

 

After dinner I struggled to carry my bulging stomach to the sundeck. As I laid around digesting, I noticed the dramatic mountains in the distance. Over the next few hours we moved slowly until the mountains encircled us. It reminded me of the Islands in Thailand. Except this area was much larger, had more mountains and had a mysterious fog. Apparently the fog is normal weather and it is almost never sunny here.

 

Haolong Bay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our first stop was to a famous cave nearby. We docked and made our way inside. The cave was lit up by multicolored lights and filled with tourists. The main cavern was as big as a highschool basketball stadium We admired the rock formations for 30 mins before making our way out to enjoy sunset from kayaks.

 

Our whole group inside of the cave

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our guide warned us to not paddle far away and we left in groups of two. I was with a girl named Ashly and we went through the series of mountains projecting from the water. We were a long ways out when we realized it was getting dark rapidly and we should head back. The sudden darkness quickly disorientated us and we became unsure of our route.

 

We both knew we were in big trouble because everything looked exactly the same. The rocks formations created a water maize. Our boat would be impossible to find because all the other tourist galleons the exact same as ours and were in all directions for many kilometers. We stopped by a few boats to ask directions but no one spoke any English. We didn’t even know the name of our boat. By this time, we were in the pitch blackness of the Vietnamese night. We had no money, no phone, no passport and no clue where we were.

 

Ashley started getting nervous and I felt my heart beginning to race as I thought of different catastrophic hypotheticals. How would they ever find us out here? Our boat was supposed to leave the bay early in the morning, what would we do if we didn’t find them by then? I took deep breaths and tried to remain calm. We paddled rapidly but our clumsy two person kayak moved slowly against the waves.

 

By sheer luck we saw a boat picking up Kayaks around the bay. We paddled up hoping they could tell us where the dock was. We asked and they just nodded and tied our kayak onto their boat. We didn’t know if they were taking us to the right place or if they even understood, but we had no other option.

 

Thankfully the tugboat dropped us off at the right dock after 20 minutes. Ashley and I hugged each other in joy. They called the search party they had sent out for us and they carried us back to the houseboat. Wow was it a relief to be back. We told our story repeatedly, had a few drinks and went to bed anchored in the middle of Haolong Bay.

 

There were so many boats in every bay even in the day it was confusing

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning we went kayaking again (staying a safe distance from the boat) and then went to land for biking. The bikes they gave us were either old mountain bikes or newer granny bikes with baskets and big seats. You should be able to guess which I chose. We peddled on a cement path next to the emerald waters at the base of a mountain. Then we turned into the mainland. This bike ride was my first expedition into the Vietnamese jungle. I couldn’t help but think of my family and how much they would love to cycle here.

 

The riding was intense at the pace my friends and I went. I regretted picking the mountain bike when I realized it was stuck in 21^st gear. The area was hilly and made for quite a workout. As we entered the jungle our cement path dwindled into a mud trail.

 

After peddling down these trails for long enough to be dripping with sweat, we emerged into a Vietnamese village sheltered by mountains on all sides. The cleared land around the village really stood out from the dense jungle surroundings. They had rice patty fields extending far from the village. In them workers wearing rice hats slaved away. On the streets we passed shoeless women carrying water on their heads. A few kids waved at us.

 

Biking into the Village

 

 

 

 

We stopped at the edge of the village to drop off our bikes for a few kilometer hike. We walked deep into the jungle. We climbed up rocks, through vines and into caves. Afterwards we got back on bikes and my friends and I raced ahead of the group to head back to the boat. Several peoples bicycles broke down and they had to hop on motorbikes back. Some of the girls caught motorbikes as well because it was too hard of a ride.

 

After everyone returned to the boat, we floated towards Monkey Island. The boat couldn’t get close to land so we had to swim to it. I was the first one there and saw monkeys playing on a small hut. The monkeys were curious and came next to me to investigate. After messing with them for a bit, two friends and I hiked high up on a nearby mountain but found no more monkeys. Still it was a gorgeous place and an enjoyable hike (even though I had no shoes on from swimming over).

 

For our final night, we stayed on a nearby Island. We found a bar with many tourists. I met some people from New Zealand, Britain, Canada and the US. I was happy to hear the bar had snakewine shots (sorry for out of place picture at the top, im having formatting problems and have little time to correct). I’m not sure exactly what it is still, I just know it was in a huge jug with dead starfish and snakes. I did my shots of it and it tasted ok until the pungent aftertaste.  I caught a motorbike back with a friend and we decided to check out the beach before going back to the hotel. It was a great moment as we stared into Haolong Bay on our final night.

 

 

The next day we had to travel by boat, taxi, bus, motorbike and plane for eleven hours to get back. I was severely sleep deprived, not only because of lack of sleep the past night, but also the previous two nights. Previously this long day of travel would be daunting, but I’m used to it. It’s what Semester at Sea is all about!

 

On the way back there was one noteworthy event. We had gotten off our plane and were going back to the ship in a taxi. Partway through the 30 minute ride a man on a motorbike banged against the windows of our taxi. This guy was about thirty years old and had a shady look. Our windows were down and he began yelling at us. The driver yelled back. Neither spoke any English but it was obvious this motorbike man wanted our taxi to stop.

 

Our driver ignored the harasser and made a hand gesture symbolizing crazy to us. We laughed and then looked back to see the crazy guy still at the side of our car. Now he was making the hand signal of shooting a gun at our car. He glared at us with a frown on his face as he repeatedly made the gesture of shooting up our car. Our driver sped off but at a stoplight five minutes later the motorbike man reappeared and parked his bike to block our taxi. He hopped out and ran at us but our driver swerved around and sped forward.

 

At first it was funny having this little Vietnamese man on a girly motorbike yelling at me and two of my friends (who are both bigger than me). After the gun gestures and blocking us in it was now getting a little scary. This guy followed us yelling for the remaining ten minutes of our drive. As we neared the port, the harasser pulled into a dark alley on the side of the road and motioned for our driver to follow him. In the alley there were another six men on motorbikes. Fortunately our driver ignored him and dropped us off at the heavily policed port entrance.

 

Our taxi driver spoke no English so I still have no idea what exactly was going on. The driver asked for extra money because of the motorbikes and we gave him a little. I am not sure if this was a scam to get us to pay more for the cab, if we were almost robbed or something else. Regardless it was another adrenaline filled moment and I’m glad to have made it out safe.

 

I went out this night with a bunch of friends from the boat. We ate a combination of chicken, rice, peppers, noodles, fish oil and bean sprouts from a street vendor. Not sure how I haven’t gotten sick yet, I’ve been eating street food in every country. Close to this stand my friend Becky from the University of Iowa had a man make the cut throat gesture to her after she said she was from America. He actually picked up a knife from the stand and looked over at us. Then he set it down but still followed us for a while. Finally we lost him, or so we thought, until we saw him drive by yelling on his motorbike. He turned around and parked next to where we were sitting on some steps. We lost him when we went into a club.

 

I stayed up all night because we were leaving at 6:30 AM the next day to explore the Cu-Chi tunnels. After a two hour drive, we arrived and the tourguide sat us down for an introductory video. It was a very different perspective on the war than I’ve always gotten. Instead of calling the video “The Vietnamese War” they called it “The American War.” Which makes perfect sense, but for some reason it caught me off guard. They talked about the heros at Cu-Chi and how they won medals for killing so many Americans. They also told of the tunnel tactics and innovations the Viet Cong used to kill Americans with glowing praise.

 

We saw the intricate system of tunnels the Viet Cong used to attack Americans. There was a wide assortment of barbaric looking traps they employed. Some were holes covered by trap doors that soldiers would fall through and onto a floor spiked with bamboo poles. Others were triggers that Americans would set off as they stepped into the tunnels and metal spikes would shoot out to impale them. It was eery to think these gruesome traps were used on American men my age in this exact location.  

 

 

Halfway through the tour our guide said we could crawl into the tunnels if we weren’t claustrophobic. We decided it needed to be done and lowered ourselves into the tiny burrows. Shortly after entering, I was dripping with sweat while army crawling through a small portion of this anthill created by the Vietnamese. My shoulders were too wide and drug against the walls as I squirmed through. I felt like I was going to get stuck. I started to freak out a bit because there were people directly in front and behind me and I felt caged by the dirt squeezing my shoulders together. One main problem was the suffocating heat while crawling along the tombs. I was dripping in sweat and could barely breathe the stagnant tunnel air.   I demanded for my body to fight forward for the full experience of the tunnels. Fifteen minutes after entering, we emerged on the other side of the camp.

 

Entering into the Tunnels

 

 

 

 

 

They designed the tunnels so they would be too small for American soldiers to fit through. In fact, the tunnel I barely fit through was widened for tourists. I would not have fit if it were any smaller. I cannot imagine the fear of any American soldier exploring these tunnels during the war time. I was flustered and there was no danger from enemies or traps.

 

To end our experience, we got to shoot some guns. I shot an AK-47. The thing that stuck out the most was how loud the guns were. They gave us stereo headphones to protect our ears—not exactly American safety regulations. I heard ringing for a minute afterwards.

 

We caught our taxi back and wandered the market delirious from tiredness. I managed to stay awake until 5pm when I could pick up my suit.  I made it back to the boat and fell asleep for 14 hours straight. That has to be near coma status and is probably the longest I’ve ever slept.

 

Now I get to travel to Hong Kong, Beijing and Shanghai in the next 5 days. I will be hopping on another plane ride for a university stay and will be shown around the great wall by students. I leave tomorrow morning. Just wrote all this in a few hour straight session so forgive me if there’s some errors. I figure if I don’t write it now I never will.

Welcome to the Jungle

Our ship makes waves whenever we come into a country and Thailand was no exception. We landed in Laem Chabang, which was a small town two hours away from Bangkok. We did not have any kids dancing for us like in Namibia but they did set up a makeshift marketplace for our arrival. Next to that was a fleet of buses. I hopped on one heading towards the airport in Bangkok.

Traffic was surprisingly normal here, at least compared to India. People mostly followed the lanes, there were no bicycle carriages, and I even saw a few speed limit signs. Still, by US standards it was a frenzy. The one rule of the road was if there’s an open space, fill it. We barely left half of a car length between our bus and other vehicles. Red tuk tuks weaved around our bus. The tuk tuk is the Thai equivalent to the Rickshaw. They have four wheels and are basically doorless golf carts.

We arrived at the airport for our early morning flight. My experience flying on Thai airlines went better than I could have imagined. The airport itself was designed as a giant tube shaped terminal with metal wires wrapping around it. We ogled the architecture briefly before a heading through a frighteningly unthorough security stand. At check in I found out I was upgraded to first class.

First class seats

Thai airlines really pamper you when you get first class. I had enough legroom to fully extend my legs and a personal TV. What really won my affection were the steaming fishcakes they served. We landed in Phuket only an hour later, and for the first time in my life I wanted the plane ride to last longer.

Phuket was unexpectedly touristy. At first glance, it had an atmosphere like the Bahamas with white tourists, clubs and ritzy resorts lining the streets. I expected a poorer and more jungly environment. Instead, it looked like Spring break in Florida. I quickly learned initial perceptions can be deceiving.

I set out to explore the town with one of my friends named Becky from the University of Iowa. We found an outdoor restaurant/bar and ordered a few drinks. The bartender was intrigued with us and we talked with him for about 45 minutes. He was a fat shirtless Somoan looking man. His accent was hard to understand and he kept mumbling something about “lady-boys” before erupting into a hearty laugh.

A short time after leaving, I saw a street with an obnoxious amount of lights, noise and people mashed together. Of course I headed towards it. The only thing I can compare it to is Iowa City on New Years Eve. Club after club laid next to each other blaring music in competition for the flocks of people. Food vendors crowded the street but thank god they were around. Without the smells from their fresh fruit and pastries I would have only been able to smell the booze, sweat and puke.

Patong Street

Much like India, everyone here wanted to talk to me. However it was clear their only interest was my money. Men would come running up to me and display a case full of watches, sunglasses, fans, bracelets and other trinkets. Owners of suit shops would want to shake my hand and if I did they latched on and attempted to haul me into their store.

Many of the things they offered were obscene and inappropriate for this blog. It would be only a half description of the area if I didn’t include the scantily clad women grabbing onto me or the men handing me menu’s containing unmentionable things. I’ll leave it at this, I went into one place I thought was a bar and saw some things that left me scarred. Send me an email at ajwhitters@semesteratsea.net if you are willing to know the sick but true experience I had.

The main topic locals wanted to discuss was these lady boys that Thailand is apparently famous for. Gorgeous women were everywhere and I couldn’t imagine that any of them were not real, but according to the locals many of them aren’t. The girls, whether real or not, were given no respect here. Even out at the clubs stunning women were given no attention. It was so strange to me, if any of them came to Iowa City they would be hounded by men vying for their attention. Here most women were left dancing by themselves.

After an excessively late night out on the town, I had to wake up at 7:00 the next morning. We were traveling to one of the most famous sites in Thailand, the Koh Panak Islands. After the bus ride, a fragile looking motorized raft carried us the rest of the way. Pale dinner plate sized jellyfish floated by as we crept through the green waters. We were headed towards a group stone blocks that lay far ahead.

As we got closer to the blocks, I realized their enormous mountain like size. Their stone cliffs soared straight from the ocean to create undisturbed nature reserves. A sea of green trees, vines and shrubs were growing vertically from the side of the mountains. We were introduced to our personal guide, Ahm, who was going to take us for a closer look. We hopped into kayaks and he paddled us away. While pointing towards the mountain, he said in a humorously thick accent, “there, we go under.” I didn’t know what was going on so I just nodded in agreement.

Once we were in the shadow of the mountain, I saw what he was talking about. There was a little crevice that we were apparently going to try to fit into to go under the mountain. Ahm paddled into it as he said, “You, lay down so no hit head.” It was excellent advice because even when we flattened out, the cliffs were two inches from our faces. We were like a dollar bill being slid into a vending machine, no extra room in any direction.

The entrance

After the claustrophobic entrance, we arose to a darkness you can only get in a cave. Especially because we had been out in the bright light thirty seconds earlier, we couldn’t see our hand when it was an inch from our face. Ahm handed us a pathetic flashlight and that barely lit the way. The temperature was 20 degrees cooler than the 95 degree heat torching us outside. I noticed a poignant scent that was a mix of must and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. I realized what the smell was as the flashlight illuminated hundreds of bats dangling from the ceiling. All Ahm needed to say was “guano.”

We saw light piercing through the darkness from a small slot at the other end so we again smushed ourselves into the canoe. I was blinded as we emerged because of the bright sunlight. My eyes adjusted to behold the most beautiful place I have ever been. We were in a small lake protected on all sides by cliffs. It had a prehistoric feel with dense vines and trees flowing down the cliff walls.

When we emerged into the light

As we paddled, I could feel the life all around us. I saw a group of monkeys playing ten feet away. They energetically flung through rocks and vines enjoying their untouched paradise. I could hear the flapping from birds soaring above us. A bright gold bird with a red beak drew my attention with a loud caw. A different guide pulled a squirming horseshoe crab from the water. We took many pictures and talked in soft voices about how spectacular the area was before ahm told us we had to leave. If we didn’t depart soon the tides would imprison us for hours. This would be the best jail ever.

Monkeys

We squeezed through the cave and explored around the coastline. I felt bad for skinny ahm having to paddle us around so I grabbed the oar for a while. We went to another island, one where part of the movie “Tomorrow Never Dies” was filmed. The island was appropriately called “James Bond Island.” The movie “The Beach” was also filmed in the area.

For the final portion of the day, we ate a seafood dinner and swam around on a nearby beach. I did flips from the top of our boat and watched locals play a hackysac like game with a wooden ball. This day was incredibly relaxing.

Part of our delicous dinner

After a long night out I woke up the next day with two hours of sleep to head to a national forest three hours north. I slept for most of the bus ride but each time I looked out the jungle had gotten denser. By the time we stopped, it had grown into an impassable entanglement of life.

At our stop there were tiny men with pointy hats walking amongst a group of elephants. These men boarded the elephants in an unexpected way. The elephant grabbed them by the trunk like a log and then sat them on top of their heads. The elephants had a bench attached to their back but it didn’t seem like they cared. We used a stand to climb up. These two to three ton beasts made no notice of our relatively minute weights being added. They were bigger and hairier than I expected.

Once onboard the elephants carried us into the jungle. They plodded along slowly as we watched the jungle scenery flow by. Steep mountains of life protruded in the distance. The amount of plant life here was amazing. I don’t think it would be possible to walk off the path without a chainsaw to cut your way through.

The guides seemed very in tune with the elephants. They didn’t speak any English so we couldn’t ask questions but we heard him talking to the elephant continually. It was a little creepy. We learned beforehand that these guides traveled down from the north and live with the elephants. They treat them as Americans would a child. My elephant was rebellious and, perhaps appropriately, was obsessed with eating. He would ignore our trainers kicking while stopping to eat an entire bushel of plants. After we were done we fed him about 10 lbs of fruit and he was still reaching for more. His apetite was incredible!

Next we went on a jungle hike. We tromped along for a while as an English speaking guide pointed out different plants and animals. There were birds, lizards, and an uncountable number of plant species. They actually have about 10 to15 times the diversity of plants as we have in the Midwest.

Right as we finished hiking, the rain began to fall by the bucketful. Now, much like my Namibian safari experience, I was trekking through the jungle shirtless and shoeless. At this point you stop caring about bugs and cleanliness. I was wet, muddy and hot. A fitting jungle experience and I loved it.

The final portion of our jungle excursion was a raft ride. Again we had paddlers ready to do all the work, so we hopped in and were able to just take everything in. There was a lot going on too. You couldn’t see far into the forest because it was so dense but you could hear the hoots from monkeys, bellows from frogs, buzzing from insects and chirps from birds. Steep mountains drifted by on either side of the river. By the time we had finished the rain dwindled into a light warm pattering. Pictures and words do the area no justice, its something you need to see for yourself.

After a wild final night in celebration of St. Patty’s Day and our last day in Phuket we caught our flights back home. As we headed towards our hotel in Bangkok I looked out and realized how big the city is. Its buildings towered as far as I could see. Censuses are poor here, but estimates say the city is between 20 and 60 million people. As is expected in this big of a city, the roads were deadlocked in traffic jams. A ride that should have taken 15 minutes took us two hours. Comically, our guide said traffic was better than normal because it was a Buddhist holiday.

One of my friends from home, Chris Bublitz, was studying abroad here in Thailand and had met up with me in Phuket a few days earlier. I had all these jungle and kayaking trips scheduled during the day so I only got to hang out with him during the crazy Phuket nights. For my two days in Bangkok, he hung out with me the entire time and his guidance was greatly appreciated . He helped me with prices, insights into the country, and directions. Even more than that, it was just great to see a familiar face from home.
For the first (and only) night we were in Bangkok, he brought us to a place called Kho San Road. It was similar to Phuket with clubs all around, people barraging us with fliers, and vendors demanding our attention. In the stores nearby, I bought a bunch of $2-3 DVDs and a few t-shirts. I’m planning on buying most of my stuff in Vietnam. Its supposed to be cheaper and its so hard for me to find any time to shop with so much going on.

On Kho San Road there was a vendor with a bug cart. I told a girl I was with I would eat anything she picked out if she bought it. A mistake there, the most expensive thing was ten cents. On the cart there were worms, different sizes of grasshoppers, maggots, water beetles, scorpions, cockroaches and other bugs I have never seen. She picked out the cockroach and scorpion for me. The four inch long cockroach was disgusting. The wings were nearly unchewable and reminded me of eating basil leaves. The insides were the same texture as kidney beans but had a sour taste. Afterwards I was handed the a full scorpion. It was equipped with claws, tail and all. It tasted fried and was crunchy. It actually tasted pretty good, especially after eating the cockroach.

Scorpion Dinner

I danced the night away at local clubs. We had to leave Bangkok by 2 pm this day so I decided to get an early start by not sleeping at all. My friends and I were out exploring the town by 7 am. We first went to go get a massage. It felt immaculate after the tiring experiences I had over the past few days. It lasted for half an hour and cost only 3 dollars!

Then we hopped onto a water taxi which took us around the city. We stopped at the Grand Palace and had quite an experience with a flock of birds attacking us. We ended up not even going inside though because it cost a lot of money and we wanted to check out some more of the city. We saw some stores and ate some good food before we ended up getting stuck in a myriad of transportation. I gave my thanks and goodbye to my friend studying in Thailand and hopped on thebus back to the ship just in time.

Thailand was much more developed than I expected. Their roads and public transportation worked well. Many people had cell phones and their malls were the largest I have seen. It was clear tourism was the basis for the economy. From the rowdy nightlife to breathtaking jungles and beaches I can see why people want to travel here. I saw more white people here than in any other country, even South Africa. I think if I could pick one place to study abroad this would be it. Everything was cheap, the people were friendly and the food was the best I’ve had yet.

Still there were lots of problems here. The most disturbing thing was the way they treated women. As I said, there were some scarring things happening. Also, just outside of the main parts people walk through, there were crowded slums of local people. I would consider Thailand a modern, but still third world country.

Tomorow I will be in Vietnam for all kinds of crazy stuff. I might even be doing a snakes blood shot that has a beating heart in it… Tons of stuff going on in my life with trying to arrange student loans, study for classes, write this blog, respond to emails and keep somewhat of a social life on the boat. Whew, need to get some sleep to prepare for whatever crazy things I am going to do in Nam.

Smiles in the Slums

 

 

            India was a wonderful place that stimulated the mind and senses (especially smells). The boat rumors about being able to smell India a day before we landed were not true, but I was woken up by a suffocating stench. It was nauseating until you got used to it. The only place I’ve ever been that reeked as badly was the landfill. Pollution was so bad it was visible as thick smog outside my window.

 

            I geared up in my money belt, heavy duty shoes, and crappiest clothes to take on whatever awaited me outside. The port entrance was a ten minute walk away from our ship, so a horde of Indian taxis gathered to transport us. When I say Indian taxis, I am talking about human powered chariots. They were essentially a wagon attached to a man on a bicycle. Four or five of these men circled around us vying for our attention. I tried to select the one who looked healthiest. This task was not easy; it was like picking the tallest person in a group of midgets. My choice had legs like arms and arms like twigs. It was ironic this feeble of a person was pedaling me around.

 

My experience in other countries served me well in dealing with the taxis. I knew to agree upon a price before hopping in and to expect scams. He actually tried to demand 1500 Rupees ($25) for this short ride. After some work, we ended up agreeing on $2 total. As has happened many times around the globe, he tried to trick us. He said the price was 2$ per person rather than total. I gave him the agreed upon price and turned my back to him shouting for more.

 

After being transported outside the gate, another crowd of taxis waited to take us the rest of the way. The drivers were in a frenzy fighting for us. I felt like fish food as people tore at me from all directions. I found out later that there had been an article in the newspaper about our ship coming. Rickshaws were the only transportation available. Rickshaws look like a three wheeled golf cart painted like a taxi. They weren’t exactly up to American safety standards with no doors or seatbelts to protect us. Why couldn’t there be any normal taxis here?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chillin with my rickshaw driver

 

Driving here was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Chennai has four times as many people as Atlanta in a quarter of the area. Personal space is nonexistent, especially on the roads. Even more terrifyingly, there are no stoplights or stop signs! Just imagine trying to drive in a city like New York without any traffic control. Lanes are not even used as a general guideline. Four or five vehicles cram into a two lane space.

 

 

The congested roads in Chennai

 

 In India, traffic is regulated through horn honking rather than stoplights. Horn honking has a completely different connotation. You honk every time you pass a vehicle, every time you go into an intersection, and every time you go around a blind corner. Instead of meaning “I’m pissed, what are you thinking?!” like it does in the US, it is a friendly “be careful, I’m here.” The constant symphony of horns made the roads seem even more chaotic.

 

 One funny thing about rickshaws is that they won’t take you where you want to go for at least an hour. Our driver, Giri, took us to a few of his friend’s shops before he would take us anywhere else. I didn’t get too upset because I had no where to be and wanted to explore the city anyways. Hilariously, we ran into many other Semester at Sea students whose drivers also took them there unwillingly. The rickshaw drivers constantly tried to scam us. They would lie about shops being closed, act like they got lost, or change the agreed upon price. I guess you get what you pay for. It cost only ten dollars for six hours of him driving us through Chennai.

 

The next day I woke up early in anticipation for my Rotarian homestay. I was nervous about which type of family I would get. Fortunately they ended up being amazing. They were a young couple with a three year old boy and five year old girl. Even though they spoke Tamil as their first language, I could understand their English.

 

My host family owned their own accounting business and were quite wealthy, especially by Indian standards. Their apartment was about the size of a typical American home, which is a mansion in the minute space available here. They were so hospitable and went far beyond what was required of them.

 

My first experience with my surrogate family was a typical Indian lunch. Eating in India was very different from the states. First of all, it was pure vegetarian. Every meal had rice in it along with multiple spicy sauces. I am lucky I love spicy things because everything was hot, even breakfast. Another staple food is naan, which is like a crunchy tortilla. My host mom, Janani, was a great cook and always went out of her way to make us delicious foods.

 

The most different part was that they ate with their hands. They used no silverware, except for serving. At first I felt awkward. As an American, it is very unnatural to have sauce dripping from your hands. I had to continually fight the urge to use my napkin. By a few days later, I was scooping big saucy piles of rice without hesitation.

 

An Indian Breakfast

The dad, T.M.Vernakeesh, was equally as considerate. On our first day together, he showed me around town. The most interesting place I visited was the local university. Their facilities paled in comparison with American standards. It was interesting to see what kids my age were doing.

 

Later on in the day, we went to the beach with the whole family. I went horseback riding along the shore with the little their daughter Ananya and then went for a swim in the ocean. There I met some kids my age and had a lengthy conversation with them about the differences between our countries.

 

Ananya got scared

One thing I must mention is the head wobble. In India, they have a strange gesture where you wobble your head to indicate agreement or to show you’re listening to someone. They use it like we use a head nod in conversation. To do it you stare straight forward and tilt your head towards one shoulder and then the other. It’s like your trying to touch your ear to your shoulder. All of us students found it hilarious to do. My friends and I tried to use the wobble in conversations, but looked so awkward doing it we would only get laughs from locals.

 

            That night, we had a dinner to gather all the Rotarian members and homestay students. The Rotarian club is basically the rich and prominent people in the area. They spoke in glowing terms about our presence and were so proud to have us choose to stay in Chennai with them. They called us on stage and gave us a present and a necklace. After dinner, they had us pose for an extraordinarily long time as they took picture after picture. This photo shoot was just the beginning of me feeling like a celebrity in India.

One of the many pictures they took

 

 

To introduce us to Indian culture we saw a traditional dance and then ate a big meal. It was great fun conversing at length with locals. There are far more similarities with the youth in each country than I could have imagined. I got along with these guys quite well. I love how Indians are so open to talking with random people.

 

            The next day the rotary club set up a big tour for all the participants. We left our families and set off to see the local Hindu temples. The beautiful temples were carved over 1400 years ago from solid slabs of stone. Many of the different gods I learned about from my host family and classes were visible in the stone monuments. Hinduism is an intriguing religion and I like many of its principles, especially meditation. Don’t worry about me converting though. I could never be a vegetarian.

At the Mahabahapurim Monuments

 

College-aged Indian students led our tour which I loved because they better understood my interests. I had many talks with local people and made a few friends while exploring the monument. Indians have to be the friendliest people in the world. When I walked down the street, people would wave at me and smile. Contrary to our pre-port information, I felt very safe here.

 

For our final stop of the day, we went to a reptile farm. The animals were exotic and we saw trainers playing with poisonous cobras. There were hundreds of crocodiles, including the largest one in captivity in India. It was 16 ft long and weighed about 1300 lbs. Despite all these cool animals, the best experience of my day happened when I got separated from my group. There were about 50 uniformed school age kids around the cage fascinated by the giant croc. I jokingly acted like I was going to throw one of these school boys to the croc and then introduced myself.

 

Apparently this was just the opening all the kids were waiting for. I quickly turned a more exciting zoo exhibit as they all surrounded me yelling questions and wanting to shake my hand. I was helpless in the middle of this mob of kids. I shook hand after hand as they shouted out their names to me. There were about fifty of them. Their teacher saw this from the other side of the zoo and came sprinting over while blowing a whistle wildly. The kids disregarded him until he began whipping them with his whistle string. It was pretty intense!

 

That night I went out on the town with a few new Indians friends and my host dad. The nightlife in India is actually pretty good, much better than expected. The Indians continued to impress me with their hospitality and bought my drinks for the night. Everyone in the bars was Americanized and wealthy. They knew more about our pop culture than I did and many had been to America. I made several friends while randomly wandering and greatly enjoyed my night. The dad, another semester at sea student and I stayed up late into the night drinking vodka and discussing differences between India and America.

 

For my last day with my family, I requested a trip to the slums. My experience was an eye opener. The people lived in primitive huts next to rivers of trash. The stick shanties were smaller than tents I have used while camping. Trash-eating goats appeared to be the only method of waste removal. It was like these people lived in an American dump. I could barely breathe because the air was so thick with smells rotting eggs and human feces. Seeing families living in these conditions made my heart ache.

 

A woman trying to sell us fish as we walked in

From the moment I walked in, I was again hounded by children. My host dad said many of them have probably not seen a white person besides on TV. About 15 formed a cloud around me which hovered there for my entire tour. I felt like I was a celebrity being escorted through the area. Word must have spread of our presence because new kids were scurrying out of their huts. All of them wanted to shake my hand. I probably shook 30 hands in my time walking through. When I pulled out my camera kids would leap to pose in the picture.

 

  I was surprised to see that the people living in these conditions appeared so friendly and happy. The kids were as bursting with enthusiasm to talk to me. They seemed to be proud of their huts and showed me inside one. Inside there was a chair, a few blankets on the floor, and some pictures. I don’t think much else could have fit.

 

In the slums I expected a dangerous sickly area, not the hospitality and friendliness I was shown. I did not feel unsafe while walking through. In fact, my host dad brought his three year old son along. On my way out a family even offered me dinner! How can they offer me food when they are so poor? I should be the one giving it out. The smiles in the slums represent the essence of India. I could not help but love this country.

 

A few of the kids I met

I left the slums with mixed feelings. On one hand the conditions were so grim; the worst I have witnessed anywhere in the world. Still, the people did not act downtrodden or depressed as I anticipated. A few people begged me for money and would probably rob me if given the opportunity. Nowhere, especially the slums, is perfect. Despite the apparent bleakness of their situation, the people here did not seem any less happy than in the US.

 

I had a sad goodbye dinner with my family after my trip to the slums. Then I took them on a tour of our ship. Their awe of our facilities again made me realize how lucky I am to be in this position, sailing around the world. This homestay is the best experience I have had so far on Semester at Sea. I couldn’t be more grateful to my host family.

 

On my final day, I did a field trip called “Socioeconomic Problems in India.” Our trip visited to the poorest areas of a nearby town. There we met with disabled students and woman’s rights groups. Once again, I expected the worst when I went to see how disabled kids live in the slums.

 

 Pleasantly, my experience was similar to the slums in Chennai. These kids had problems like Down’s Syndrome or Cerebral Palsy but still seemed quite happy. They did a dance for us and showed us the crafts they were learning to make. The organization working with them, MCDS, is doing an incredible job. I actually ended up buying some crafts from the kids. You should have seen how excited my boy got when I chose his piece. It brought a smile to both our faces.

 

My new buddy at the disabled clinic

I cannot tell you how much I loved India. The hospitable and caring people struck me more than anything else. I am glad I did not go to see the Taj Mahal as most students did. I have seen so many tourist sites already. I’m learning quickly that the most captivating things each country has to offer are the local people and culture.

 

 From talking with many locals in each country, my eyes have been opened to the prominent role America holds in the world. People worldwide follow our presidential election closer than most Americans do. All the Indians were talking about our economy. They need America to do well in order to prosper. What we do affects the globe more than I ever imagined. Our TV shows, toys, restaurants, clothes, music, and movies are everywhere. Even though Caucasians are nonexistent here, the street side billboards and advertisements have American models on them.

 

Our TV shows, music and movies form our international stereotype more than anything else. The world learns about our culture through dubbed over shows like “Saved by the Bell.” I feel so ignorant having so many questions and misguided beliefs about each country because they already know so much about us. They know our thanksgiving, geography, accent, and slang. The main misperception they have is assuming we all live like the movie stars they see on TV. In more than one country, I’ve had people ask me if we act like those throwing temper tantrums on the shows “My Super 16 Birthday” or “Bridezilla.” 

 

 The world thinks we are all rich and spoiled. Although we don’t all act like the spoiled brats on MTV shows, when I look around places like this I realize how privlidged we are. We do not have political corruption, diseases in our water, nor trash in our streets. We have honest police and driving restrictions to keep us safe. We never think twice about having roofs over our heads or shoes on our feet. These are things I have taken for granted.

 

It was only by luck I was born a world away from here. The average child born in America uses 20 times as many resources as one born in India. These mentally handicapped and impoverished families were on the unlucky side of fate. Still, they walk around with a smile on their face. How can I complain about anything ever again?