Wanderings in Europe and India

Podcast

2008-11-07T09:33:00.002-05:00

So, I know I have been a horrible blogger for the past two months. The good thing is I haven't stopped writing about my life here in India, and I have recently come up with the idea of having a podcast. It's to the left of these posts and will be updated quite regularly. I'll probably put up the writing as well. I've been doing a lot of interviewing lately so hopefully I'll be able to incorporate that as well. This past week was very difficult to be in India-all I wanted to do was celebrate Obama's win in the States! There's no doubt that his win has made it easier to be a foreigner abroad.
Life has been settling down here. The apartment gets more furnished with each week and is starting to feel like an actual home. I've also started cooking more which is something I never thought would happen. In the next two weeks I'll be taking two trips through southern India: one to Hampi and another to the BR Hills. The semester ends in early December, but I'll definitely be staying here throughout break. It will be nice to have some time off.

That's it for now, look for the podcast updates!

Diwali

2008-11-07T08:00:00.000-05:00

This time last week firecrackers burst through the streets like raging rapids rushing downstream. I listened to the commotion for 72 hours straight, which was mainly led by small boys competing to see who was least afraid of fire but also by families who shot off fireworks from their rooftops late into the evening. The Indians around me were quite entertained by my loose nerves and the frantic yelps I would release immediately following the unexpected pop! of a firecracker. The boys would cover their mouths with their right hand and laugh at my responses, grabbing each other with mixed excitement and amusement. I would continue to walk on through the day which had given way to the battleground of Diwali. To Western ears, the noise placed me in a war zone, where the crackers were bombs and the fireworks missiles sailing past my window. I was used to an hour of fireworks on the fourth of July but nothing could have prepared me for this.
It began in the early hours of Monday, when I was awakened not by the light of the rising sun but by the harsh racket resonating from my neighborhood. I opened the door to the balcony and watched below as eager young children lit off dozens of tiny explosives. It had to be before seven in the morning. One went off after another and at first I nonchalantly shrugged off the action but after several hours of no break, irritation began to settle in and I shook my head side to side, baffled by the need to constantly make noise. But at nighttime the fireworks appeared and it seemed now, that they were truly celebrating the festival of lights. I calmed down a bit, hypnotized by the colors bursting across the night sky.
To Americans, Diwali is like a mix of fourth of July, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, all rolled up into one nice package. Sweets are devoured, presents are often given, and of course, pyrotechnics are ubiquitously embraced. Indians describe Diwali as a time to celebrate the victory of good over evil and of light over darkness. Colorful candles sit outside the main door, greeting the visitor and welcoming them into the house. Rangoli, a form of art which uses sand and often has intricate designs, decorates the floor beside the candles. School children neglect their classes for a couple of days to bask in the excitement and even the adults seem to lose themselves in the holiday’s fun. Diwali is a time for family, to embark together in the New Year and for all Indians, regardless of religion, to rejoice and unite.
I think back to the second week I was in India, when the festival of Ganesh Chaturthi was taking place. I was quickly struck by the passionate regard for festivity in India and couldn’t believe that the same level of enthusiasm was exhibited quite regularly. Truly, only a few weeks later, Indians were celebrating Navaratri, a festival of dance that occurs for nine nights. Less than a month later, Diwali season was here in full force.
In the United States, not one of our holidays (besides perhaps Christmas) shares the same intensity of India’s festivals. On the last day of Diwali, after I was certain I was going deaf in both ears and had suffered from numerous sparkler burns, I regarded the Indian festival with astonishment. Here, in a country which has substantially lower standards of living than in the U.S., its’ people still manage to celebrate life on a more regular basis. We Americans race through our days searching for success and happiness and often forget how blessed we truly are. At what genuine times do we sit to reflect on what we do have? By our criteria, Indians have “much less” and yet they reflect constantly, they appreciate life continuously. Indian festivals have inspired me to think that we Americans are the ones who have “much less. “

Back in Bangalore

2008-10-22T00:44:00.003-04:00

This past month was nothing short of amazing! I was extremely busy, and so incapable of updating. I mainly traveled in northern India, first visiting the northwestern state of Rajasthan. We spent about four days each in Jaipur and then Jaisalmer, excluding travel days. Then, I headed to Agra to see the majestic Taj Mahal. Afterwards, a couple friends and I went to Rishikesh, in the state of Uttaranchal, at the foothills of the Himalayas. After so much traveling, I feel like I've experienced a totally different India from what I know in Bangalore. I fell in love with Rishikesh and plan on returning as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I was so busy I didn't have much time to write about what I was seeing, but in the next couple of weeks, I plan to produce numerous essays about my experiences. The only negative about the trip was I no longer have a camera, and so I won't be able to share the thousand of photos I took (I'll try to get some from friends who were with me).

Before I left, I wrote this about Dandiya, a dance that takes place at the festival of Navratri:

Red and green covered her tiny body. She stood motionless as we took pictures of her, no doubt uncomfortable at all the attention she was receiving. Bangles gently jingled up and down her tender arms like waves and a headdress fell down the course of her back which gracefully moved with the nightly wind. Her two piece garment was completely adorned with jewels and ornaments. Near her petite feet the skirt was green as a forest, with topaz, turquoise and magenta gems keeping the fabric company. Moving upwards, the hue changed to a deep cranberry red mingling with silver designs and tiny mirrors besides the precious stones. The belt returned to a green color, this time lighter in its shade. Over her upper body hung an equally extravagant and colorful garment, the same majestic red as before. At her elbows were what appeared to be bracelets made out of the same cranberry and silver fabric. Her neck showcased a cowrie shell necklace which her earrings matched. If one looked closely, they could notice the existence a tiny silver nose piercing. And of course, a bindi completed her attire, resting between her eyebrows.

We were so hypnotized by the sight of such excessive color and jewels that I found myself envious of the night this little girl would have. At 10pm, it was already far past her bedtime but this was no matter. She had come to dance. In a city where dancing is officially banned, the Hindu festival of Navaratri not only brings to life the spellbinding colors of the Rajastani North but also allows for traditional dancing styles to be exhibited and embraced by the public. For nine nights and for only 150 rupees (less than $5), residents of Bangalore can meet at the Palace Grounds for an enchanting evening of music, dance, and festivity. As we walked past the main gate, a statue of the elephant god Ganesha greeted us. Seconds later, we approached the pavilion where the celebrations were to take place and quickly took notice of the stately building we were entering. The exterior displayed a pink flower design against a white and gold backdrop, subtly illuminated by the tinkling lights hanging close by. But below, it was the sight inside that enraptured us. We walked into a large, spacious room with a colorful green floor and bleachers filled with spectators lined up against the walls. It looked as if sporting events took place here on regular occasion, but right now, everyone could be a participant in the game of dance if they so wished. Like many Indian experiences, in the first few moments of entering the pavilion, our senses were overwhelmed. Hindi music sprang forth, attaching hold to our ears for the rest of the night. My eyes were immediately directed towards a group of Indians dancing in a circle. Some were dressed as beautifully as the little girl I saw earlier, and still, some Indians looked as if they had just came from work. But together they leaned and swayed with equal amounts of intensity. Western forms of dance are nowhere near comparable to the languid movements these dancers demonstrated, where the bodies were slaves to the melody. They looked like they were all in a trance, themselves mesmerized by the music. And there we were, mesmerized by them. Smiles fleeted across their faces and as they danced clockwise in the circle, their bodies bending and bowing and twisting and turning. It was a movement far beyond what I could hope to accomplish but watching them was thrilling enough. I decided to walk to the side and take a seat in the bleachers amongst other Indians to have a better look.

Most everyone had come for dandiya, a type of interactive stick dance which is specifically designated for this festival. But before that would commence, there would be a puja and various dance contests. As the night went on, more and more Indians arrived and we seemed to be the only foreigners in the room. My group and I had especially come to take part in dandiya, whose steps we had learned earlier in the month. So when a enormous circle gathered around 11:30pm all across the floor, my peers excitedly raced with their sticks to take part. Ailed with a stomach ache, I chose instead to be an observer. For the next couple hours, I watched as hundreds of Indians moved in a circle, dancing with friends and strangers alike, each individual exuding the same amount of exhilaration. The dance is fairly simple: each person holds a stick in both hands and faces opposite a partner. Every individual hits their own personal sticks together as well as the sticks of the other person in about a five step count. Two circles are therefore formed, and after the sequence is completed with the person facing them, they move on in opposite directions to meet the next dancer. In the course of an hour, a person would have interacted with a hundred different people, sharing mirth and sharing missteps. Dance was bringing together the sexes, connecting the young and the old, and bonding the native to the visitor in a way language fails to accomplish. In this environment, identities were stripped. The only label which existed was that of the dancer.

As we departed, the little girl who so enraptured our eyes earlier in the evening stood beside us, our lifestyles connecting like two hands shaking. She wasn’t a child and I wasn’t a foreigner. We were just human beings with legs and arms meant for movement’s sake.

An Update

2008-10-03T00:01:00.000-04:00

My life began at the age of eighteen. Two months shy of my nineteenth birthday, I left American soil and crossed the Atlantic ocean to see the world. A world I had prepared to embrace and longed to see through my own eyes, eyes which had seen life through tinted glasses, providing only a narrow and colorless view of human existence. For nineteen years I was pregnant with anticipation, awaiting the moment the glasses could be taken off, awaiting a new definition of perception to be realized. In my home I am almost an adult but here I have become a child once more, encountering senses that had only been previously imagined. I find myself tripping as I learn to walk on foreign land but am constantly inspired by the view standing offers. A view that did not exist in America but could only be visible in the territory of the unfamiliar. And I was immediately prompted to write of the sights to share what many of my fellow Americans can never see. They are stuck with the glasses glued to their faces, unable to take off what has been on for years. Through writing, I can offer a glimpse of the little I have seen. And slowly, through the discourse of culture, the glasses all humans wear can disappear. And then we shall see the world without the shadow of bias and the silhouette of stereotype.

**

I have lived in India for about a month now. I’ve met countless of people, Indians and other foreigners alike, I have withstood daily power outages, countless mosquito bites, constant attention
(including random young Indian men whom I never gave my number to sending me borderline stalkerish text messages), overpowering noise and pollution, and innumerable misunderstandings. My apartment is home to not only myself and my roommate but also a lovely population of ants. The bottom of my feet have become so utterly disgusting from all the dirt that I can’t help but laugh as I shudder. And yet, I’ve come to love it all. Perhaps not the details, but the fact that they are occurring. That I am experiencing all of this. Here, every hour is reserved for education. School is twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. I’ve gradually become quite accustomed to the annoyances I initially had and they fail to bother me any longer. I’ve created a happy balance between living with what the familiar and the unknown. I still listen to NPR’s All Songs Considered Podcast, I download my favorite TV show from Itunes after it comes out each week, and I have grilled cheese for dinner every night. I go to bookstores and buy western classics but also novels by Indian authors. I wear my western skirts and Indian dress alike. Many of my peers are struggling with living in India but I’m happy to say that nothing could be further from the truth for me. I truly couldn’t choose to be in another place at this time in my life. I loved College Park with all my heart but what could I write of there? What information would I truly retain? So much of what I learned last year I have already forgotten. There was no choice between the 300 person lecture hall and the classroom of India. And to think, next year I have Japan and South Africa-how utterly unreal.

This Saturday I will be leaving for the northern state of Rajasthan. We will be spending ten days in both Jaipur and Jaisalmer (Jodhpur, where the recent stampede occurred is in Rajasthan but I won’t be going there). Rajasthan is located in the northwestern part of India, and borders Pakistan. It is primarily known for its desert landscape. On our trip, we will be taking a camel safari and sleeping on the sand dunes! In Egypt, I was only on the camel for ten minutes so this will be much better. If anyone reading enjoys Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations, I would highly recommend seeing the Rajasthan show. And recently, I saw a piece Tom Friedman did on Bangalore called “The Other Side of Outsourcing.” I imagine anyone who is reading this is already aware that whenever there is a problem with your computer or phone or whatever, you’re usually on the phone with some one from Bangalore. Most of the people working at the call centers have to work during nights to match the time difference.

Anyway, after Jaipur and Jaisalmer, I have a four day break which will be spent doing independent traveling with friends. The main priority is going to Agra to see the Taj. But there are a couple of other locations we’re going to try to see…ah, I don’t feel like a 9 months in India is enough to see everything! It’s so large!!! There’s so much in southern India that I wish to see….I want to go to Goa, to Kerala, to Chennai (Madras) and Kolkata (Calcutta) and Mumbai (Bombay). And then there’s the rest! I’m highly considering going to do my independent study next semester in Dharamsala…I always wanted to volunteer there. And how different it would be to live at the foot of the Himalayas!

A Child's Happiness

2008-09-22T03:27:00.002-04:00

The light in my candle flickers, startled by the sound of children cheering. I smile at the occurrence, grateful to hear a child’s excitement. Without checking, I imagine they are playing a game before dinner on the streets below my apartment building. A minute or so passes and another wave of enthusiasm reaches my ears. And another, and another. It becomes so regular that my interest is piqued and I take a moment to see the cause of commotion. I open the door to my balcony and my eyes immediately follow the echo of excitement which leads to a dozen or so children standing on the stairs of a nearby building. They are waving at what appears to be my direction, and I realize there must be a couple friends of mine on our outside terrace, waving back. Within a minute, I am joining these friends and upon my entering, the children applaud at the arrival of another. We raise our hands up and eagerly signal back to them. I notice that the children on the stairs are not alone in their willingness to make contact with us. There are a few children on the streets beneath us, and on the rooftops across, also waving. Together, they jump up and down, they laugh and yelp in innocent joy only a child possesses. It is only through a few hand gestures and giggles that our worlds are bridged. We are too far away to make out anyone’s individual features but it is enough that we just exist. That we stand, and that we are.
That night, they raced across the bridge with a present of delight. They sent me a surge of energy through the space between us, one that is safe within the memory and can be called upon at any moment. A memory that lasted but a couple minutes, but one that reminded me of the simplicity and purity of a child’s view. That a connection with others could be a reason alone for thrill and for indeed, fun. And when I think of the memory and feel the surge once again, I think children often have more logic than the rest of us. The human bond can be enough to obtain happiness.

An Authentic Taste

2008-09-22T03:25:00.000-04:00

It is 9:47pm as we walk down MG Road, searching for a bar we were supposed to find an hour ago. After a tiring week of school, my three peers and I are anxious to have a fun night out. But here, “fun” takes on a series of restrictions, including a dancing ban and the city shutting down before midnight. Our minds struggle to understand how the country of Bollywood, the culture of dance and music could restrict movement of the body. Regardless, as it is our first taste of Bangalore’s nightlife scene, we are curious to discover what awaits us. We have planned to meet up with some European friends at a hip bar, presumably located in a nearby hotel. “Nearby” turns into a considerable distance on foot but it gives us time to ponder. What is nightlife like in a third world country? What shall we expect? Just as we are asking ourselves these very questions, a beggar approaches. In the dark, I have trouble making out her features but she shares the same look of desperation that afflicts all the hungry. She is an older women, with tired skin and eyes of a person already dead. In her lonely state, she is a roaming skeleton of despair. Did she know we would walk right past her, ashamed at our inability to help? What would she be thinking just five minutes later, when we reached our luxurious destination?
At first, we are so overtaken with the lavish atmosphere of the bar that guilt is a nonexistent emotion. In a moment we are sipping cocktails in Miami, we are on the Mediterranean with a glass of wine, we are in Belgium drinking beer . The moment the door opened, India became a location on a far away map, not a reality of where we truly were. And yet, as I scan the crowd comprised of wealthy foreigners, my mind is haunted by the woman we passed earlier. Had she ever had the cranberry and vodka that I was drinking? Did she even know of it? Could she even imagine such a place that I was in? A place of expensive taste and comfort? As the night goes on, it gets harder to brush her image aside. I watch as friends and strangers alike bathe in the alcohol they are served, alcohol which erases their knowledge of a life lived otherwise. In the morning, they will be too hungover to see the poverty outside their windows, and at nighttime, they will drink again, continuing the cycle of indifference.
I am not even tipsy and yet I feel dizzy as we make our way home. I’m not used to commuting back and forth between privilege and poverty, where my environments are flipped over like a cooking pancake. And yet if I stay in one place too long, I will burn. I need exposure to both for the perfect outcome, for the authentic taste of India.

Deafening Silence

2008-09-22T03:24:00.001-04:00

A couple of days ago, I watched with keen interest as a group of blind men attempted to cross a busy street. Together, they held each other’s hands and cautiously tested the flow of traffic. The lead man, whose bravery widened my eyes in admiration, placed his own front hand in the midst of passing rickshaws and motorcycles, endangering other parts of his body that he could not do without. But it is his ears which are now his most precious commodity. His ears are his compass, guiding him towards a destination less than fifty feet away. He must listen to the bustle of the road and appreciate the sounds as if they make up a symphony, for his existence relies on their own. Together, they intersect in his mind and as a skilled listener, he must separate them. There is the engine of a rickshaw, the dialogue of its passengers, the construction men working across the street, and a sole policeman directing traffic. Is he coming to help? Or will we be alone? He wonders.
I ask myself the same questions. Who will be the first driver to stop, creating a pathway for these men? How long will their journey take them? Even for someone blessed with 20/20 vision, crossing the street seems like a death wish and often takes five times the amount of time it would normally take to walk across the road. If I had to rely on my ears to maneuver my way around, I would be terrified to even leave the house. But apart from the hazards associated with blindness, how do these men deal with the ubiquitous noise?
Here in India, tourists may very well wish for deafness. Upon arrival, the noise seems as dangerous to the body as the water. Foreigners search for a quiet enclave and are often disappointed to find few exist. Privacy, like silence, is almost entirely absent from Indian society. As an overwhelming and unforgiving force, the racket resembles the intensity of a cricket bat hitting an oncoming ball. We, the foreigners, are flung to the far edge of the field, unable to recover from such a tumultuous smack. Secretly, we were hoping the batter would miss. But now, as we sail through the air, we can see India from a completely different view. During our flight, we come to realize that an escape from the sound would be an exit from the culture. For the volume of the landscape carries as much significance as the sights themselves. After all, India is home to Bollywood, the ever sacred “om,” and the mesmerizing sitar. And let us not forget that India is the true model of linguistic diversity, where there are almost twenty official languages and more than 1,600 dialects. If anything, the blind will never be alone in India. Sound is their faithful partner, loyal and consistently present.
In the safety of my apartment, far from the hectic streets below, I take a moment to be the blind person. I close my eyes without the bravery the lead man had no choice but to embrace, and listen to the tune my neighborhood in Bangalore emanates. I easily acknowledge that there are no empty spaces in time and every instant is filled. The constant honking becomes as steady as the tampura. Close by, the arrival of a train is accompanied with the shrill of its whistle. Work is being done in my building, and I focus on the sweeping of a broom, the faint conversations in Kannada, the thrashing of a nail being hammered, and the shock of doors being slammed without warning. Water leaks from a faucet in my bathroom, a travel clock continues its cycle of time, and a dog, like my own living in the States, barks his own lonely melody for anyone willing to listen. Bells ring as worshippers call out to their gods, boys play in the streets, and my own breath rises and falls. Without the noise, India’s landscape is a blank book, which no one can read. Sound adds a story. It adds life and purpose.
Without the noise, the blind man’s world ceases to exist. The street becomes a deathly plank, hovering over hungry sharks below. The sound that the traveler at first curses and ultimately accepts is the same sound that allows a man’s life to be lived. I never saw the blind men cross the street. My rickshaw passed them in a fleeting moment, only offering me a quick glimpse of their intention. But I think of them often in my new life that is painted, not plagued by the constant clamor. I close my eyes and I see India through sound. I feel India through her vibrations. It is not the noise that would cause deafness here, but rather the silence.

The Old Marketplace

2008-09-19T03:45:00.002-04:00

The scenery blurs as I race past it. In my feverish state, I fall asleep. It is my chills and shakes that take me to this place, where color blinds my eyes, where smells lay siege on my nose, and where my throat has forgotten its ability to swallow. I am lost in a labyrinth of bedlam where entrances and exits do not even exist. I race through the throng of people, anxious for air and relief. A caretaker sees my distress as I dream, and places a wet towel over my head. At the moment my head feels coolness, I see stairs leading to outside. I follow them, only to be greeted by cows and the possibility that one will step on my feet. My delusions bring me to flowers in every shape and shade, to Hindi music foreign to my ears, and to cluttered streets and the scrawny bodies that fill them. There is a naked child walking alone, a blind couple in the tunnel begging for money, a boy who wants to go to America, and a woman nearby who used to dream herself.
I am exhausted simply by standing. I want to collapse on a magic carpet to take me above the pandemonium. I want to be rescued from the hallucinations this fever has caused and find a cure in my awakening. But I will never rouse from this state because I will never recover from the sickness. The disease of wanderlust will not abandon my body. It brings me here, to a marketplace in the city of Bangalore, igniting a fire that lashes across the plains of my mind and through the bloodstreams underneath my skin. India grips the traveler with such a force that even the smallest touch leaves a scar. My fever leaves my body changed forever.

***

Despite the confusion, things become clearer here in India. The pen has always been my closest companion. I have found such comfort in its consistency and its loyalty. Writing can never disappear. As long as I am alive, I can write. But here, in a place that constantly pulls and stretches my perception of the world, writing will not stop at being a comfort. It can be a purpose. India is an artist, painting my mind with a whole new palette of colors I never knew existed. It’s my duty to display those colors to others who will appreciate their glow.

2008-09-16T23:56:00.000-04:00

September 16

Registering with the police to obtain a residential permit became a lesson in bureaucracy and patience. The mayhem in the police station seemed to mirror the disorder of Bangalore’s traffic. In total, we spent about three to four hours at the station over two days. A week ago, we had to fill out several sheets of information, making sure everything was perfect. One tiny error meant starting over. The process was confusing and made very little sense to me. When I returned today to pick up the permit, we waited at the station for a good half an hour. Then, once I got to the counter, I gave my receipt from the day before to the Indian man and instead of handing over the permit, which is what he did for the other students, he spoke what sounded like gibberish to me. “Gadarah,” he said, or something like it. “What?” I asked. He repeated the word. “What?” I said again. This awkward and useless exchange continued a few more times, until an Afghani man I had been talking to told me this was the name of a man in the other room who I was supposed to see. So I shrugged, ventured off and asked two other men where this guy was. “Gadarah? He’s already left.” “Gone?” “Already left.” Hmm, what to do? One of the men took my receipt and together they fuddled with it. Another man approached me and eventually told me to go back into the room I originally came from and wait. As I was going back, the Afghani came in and was also told to find the mysterious G man. I went back and waited like I was told. A couple minutes later, the Afghani followed suit. All the other kids were done and asked me what was happening. “I don’t know,” I replied-partly amused at the bewildering situation and partly worried at its potential outcome. About five minutes passed and the Afghani went back up to the first counter. I followed him. I didn’t understand why he was trying again-there had been no communication between the Indians in the separate rooms. But he got his permit easily this time, and ironically I received mine moments later. None of it made sense.

But a wonderful thing happened as we waited in the station. Here, strangers quickly embraced one another under the common tag of outsider. The kind Afghani, a third year student at Bangalore University, guided me through the confusion. I met two Austrian girls who have come to India alone to volunteer with a NGO and work with children. They just recently arrived and will be here until December. We giggled and sighed over shared experiences. It didn’t matter that they were Austrian and I American; for nationalities, ethnicities, and foreign policies were forgotten in this environment, where foreigners share the same titles, obstacles, and thrill. Francisca and Kati even invited me to visit their small town outside of Vienna. We plan to get together soon. They even lent me something to help heal my poor nose (it still has not accepted the fact that it has been pierced).

There are moments in the day where I feel like the seatbelts in the rollercoaster have disappeared. And just as luck would have it, a drop is approaching and I am terrified I will fall over the edge. What is there to hold onto? Panic and fear surround me. My mind projects images of slamming face first into the ground, my insides splattering across the soil. But then I look to my side, and someone sees the stricken look of alarm spread across my face and holds me tight as we battle the descent-together. There are always seatbelts available in India: seatbelts in the form of human beings. And even though the worst seems inevitable, I will never fall off the edge. I must remember this ride will end one day and I might as well not be frightened by the danger. After all, I love amusement parks. And I have only just started the ride.

***

September 17
Grilled cheeses. “Breathless,” a film by Jean-Luc Goddard from 1960. Hand sanitizers, candles, girls with ponytails on their way to school, the sound of trains passing by, dirty feet and swollen noses, open books, closed mouths, wide eyes, fabric in every which color, memories, uncertainty, gratefulness, hope, dreams.

Thoughts here are as diverse as the stares I receive and the people who give them. As diverse as India herself. I look at the postcards I bring with me every place I go. Postcards of Matisse, Diebenkorn, of six year old drawings that are better than my own, pictures of landscapes that most Indians will never see. My world here is not just an Indian one. I think of my travels in Europe, I think of roads in Virginia that led me to harvest fairs last fall, I think of playing softball and I dream of old schools. But I think of what one expat said in the book I’m reading: “the truth is that people get used to your not being around. In a way, you have died a little bit.” My future is one of travel, of tiny deaths in the lives of the people I love back home. But I’m willing to sacrifice. Nothing can replace this type of learning. Instead of seeing exhibits at galleries in DC, I see works of art every day here. Every sight is a painting. I will not deny I miss those pieces in the States, but here, my street is a museum. The view from my balcony, the seat in a rickshaw, men in blue buses with looks of astonishment at seeing white skin, the bug bites on my body, the cows, the upper class restaurants and the trash. The pollution. The color and the smiles of children, the kindness of Indian friends.

Life beyond the back door. I could never be fenced in.

Scenes from my new life

2008-09-15T00:54:00.010-04:00

Neighborhood scenes:

Getting my nose pierced:

View from the apartment:

If anyone is interested in seeing additional photos, check out these links:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2003295&l=c84a7&id=1084770089
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2003307&l=cde6c&id=1084770089

2008-09-15T00:42:00.002-04:00

September 14

I had just finished lighting candles in my apartment when the power went out. We were waiting for our Indian friends to arrive this past Saturday night and all of a sudden, our rooms turned dark, relying only on the subtle light the candle provided.
At the moment, I have six candles lit in my room. It is my attempt to create a romantic, intimate atmosphere in this new and alien setting. The florescent lighting will not do. It is around 9:30pm and tomorrow is Monday. This weekend was filled with intense, exciting, and frustrating experiences. It feels like we’ve been here for a month. But it’s only because every moment is like a day to us-everything is powerfully different, our emotions are on overdrive.

I would like to get to bed, but this is not possible. Dozens of drums are being banged upon outside in the streets, Hindi music is booming from nearby buildings, people are whistling, cars are honking - it resembles the sound that comes from a bowl game halftime show. Or maybe even the super bowl halftime. Or perhaps Times Square on New Year’s Eve. The Hindus are celebrating Ganesha, the elephant god. Festivals are perhaps my favorite aspect of the Hindu religion. There is always something to celebrate. Us Christians have one or two such occasions throughout the year but even Christmas and Easter don’t unleash this kind of excitement, merriment, and festivity. At the moment, my tired body is not as appreciative (a cracker goes off) of the tradition because the noise is preventing much needed rest BUT I really do admire the Hindus for their willingness to frequently come together and rejoice (another fire cracker goes off). Another opportunity to be grateful. It’s beautiful. I really believe us Westerners are missing out.

Another thing I admire about the Hindu religion is their acceptance of other beliefs. As I rode in a rickshaw with my Hindu friend Priya this morning, she told us we were going to visit a church. “I am Hindu but I love Jesus.” My friend Sonja and I chuckled. “Why do you love Jesus?” we asked. “He’s very good. Oh, I’ve seen him in movies and he’s just great. Yes, I love Jesus. ” Moments later, when we approached the Infant Jesus Church, Priya entered the church and prayed for a few minutes. The church was very large and filled with colorful saris (about 40 fire crackers go off). The service was in either Kannada or Hindi, (lots of cheering, whistling-the music dies down, perhaps an end is near?) I haven’t been able to tell the difference. How funny it was to be in a church and feel like an outsider.

We are outsiders everywhere here. We don’t forget for a second. Here in my apartment, away from the peering eyes, I am still an outsider. I am not used to the intensity of noise that is being generated on my street and in the neighborhood. At times I feel like I can completely ignore the stares and snickers but at other moments, I feel I am at my wits end. When a rickshaw driver refuses to use meter for me, when men selling the strangest, unnecessary items follow us down the street in hopes we will purchase their silly goods, when Indian girls my age look me up and down and laugh, when-the list can go on and on. And yet, despite all this animosity, skin whitening cream is sold in the stores. There is such an admiration of white skin here and it’s an aspect of their culture that I find hard accepting. Part of me thinks it’s strange and sickening but then I stop myself from being so lazy and instead yearn to find the answers to my questions: why, when, how?

So much traffic. I can’t use the word “chaos” to describe the scenes here. But that is the only word I can come up with. Everything is chaotic. I picked up a book the other day called Bangalored. It’s written by an Indian author who interviewed expatriots living in here in Bangalore. I’m only into the second story but the first pages brought me so much comfort I wanted to share some lines here. A Dutchman, who married an Indian girl and had been living in India for quite some time, commented “Each day, I live through heavenly visual delights and hellish pollution and traffic and bureaucracy. By night, I get drained confronting the world and myself” (Sundaresan 12-13). Reading these words brought me such relief-his thoughts are exactly my own. I have about three other books I’m currently reading about India. But this one I will treasure the most. It reminds me I’m not crazy, that other people have done this before, and that everything will be alright.

Ever since I came to India, and even before, I’ve considered piercing my nose. Here in India, a majority of the women have their noses pierced. Undoubtedly, it is the norm, not the exception. And the rings are so beautiful here, I just couldn’t resist the temptation. So today, Sameena and Priya took me and two other girls to get it done. In about twenty minutes, three Americans came out looking a little more Indian. It only took three pairs of watery eyes, two hands to squeeze, and 50 rupees (about $1.14). Hours later, my nose is still upset at me-if it could talk it would be cursing my judgment right now…but oh well. I’m happy.

God, there are too many things to comment on here. So many subtleties and details that I forget to mention but which are critical to shaping the world in which I live in now. Here’s something small I’ll end upon: whenever I talk with Bangaloreans I know, they will open the conversation with a phrase that is totally unfamiliar to us English speakers. “Had your lunch?” they will say. Or “had your breakfast?” if its morning and “Had your dinner?” at night. It almost immediately follows a hello and brings a smile to my face each time I hear it. When Priya gave me her cell phone to meet her boyfriend via telephone, the first thing he really said was, “had your breakfast?” If anything, it’s the Indian English equivalent to “what’s up?” It’s really funny to hear unfamiliar phrases in your native tongue. But I think I’ll adopt this custom. So don’t be surprised if the next time we talk, I ask “had your dinner?”

2008-09-13T05:32:00.004-04:00

With every passing day, I fall in love with Bangalore all the more. I had read of its popularity with the Indians and even though I have not visited other parts of India, I cannot imagine a better place to be. Bangalore is an exciting mix of the new and old, offering me the comfort of certain western conveniences but also giving me the opportunity to learn of things I would never encounter in the west. Regardless of whether I have "bad" or "good" experiences, they are all ultimately worth while because I am seeing places and people my American friends will never know.

People always use the words "extreme" or "contrasts" when defining India. I confess, I would have to agree with the terms. When I walk out of the apartment in Sheshadripuram, I see children playing in a street of hay, people bathing themselves on the road, chickens and stray dogs roaming the pavement, colorful clothes that hang to dry, and it's a picture perfect shot of the "third world" India scene and I live right in the midst of it. Now, I am not naive. What I see here is probably nothing compared to what I will see in other parts of India. But even the contrast between my apartment building and what stands next to it is shocking.
And then there is MG Road. There is Brigade Road, Guruda Mall, the upper class restaurant I ate at today on Commercial Street, the huge movie theater I saw "The Last Lear" at last night. And I am in a completely different world, one dominated by western clothes, ideas, and lifestyles. That is not to say it's a complete 180 but let's just say there are about 15 Pizza Huts in this city. There is a Ruby Tuesday's, Staples, a Lush, you get the idea. But it's a very strange feeling to travel between these two extremes, to be straddling the two. There is never a dull moment here.

Just this morning, when I was leaving a shopping area to go back to the apartment (which at the moment feels like a jail cell-there is absolutely nothing in it) a couple rickshaw drivers saw us and shouted "MILLER ROAD! UTC!" I didn't recognize the men but my friend Sonja remembered these drivers had given us a ride before. There have been quite a few people (mainly shopkeepers) who instantly remember our faces and it's sort of nice. So we went with this same man who had given us a ride about a week ago, and he wanted to take us to more emporiums (like last time) so that he could get free things (I'm not totally sure, there's a weird system...if these drivers take us to specific stores, they get gifts or something). But we were like, "no no, we need to get to our destination, we're running late...no time." And for about five minutes, they keep trying to persuade us to go to the shops. We never actually say yes. They just go. So this man, named Mohammad, takes us to the same EXACT store we had been at earlier in the day, when another rickshaw driver dropped us off there. Bangalore is a large city. The chance of that happening is pretty slim and we couldn't believe it. So then he had to take us to another place, I believe on Infantry Road, and after awkwardly going in for two minutes and coming back out, we asked to go to our apartment. He wanted to go to another store. The whole thing became really frustrating, to be honest. And the only reason we finally got to the apartment was because I took down his number and told him we would call if we ever needed a ride.

I'm starting to get used to the stares. Right now I'm trying to focus on getting my apartment furnished so I have a little escape. Last night was our first night in the apartments and I barely got any sleep. This was including wearing ear plugs and a sleep mask. Noise never ceases. Lights always shine. The early morning prayer wakes me every day. In many ways I'm quite fine but my mind feels like I am in an amusement park-there is so much to see and it's all kind of strange in a sense...distractions exist everywhere. It's a constant rollercoaster...no stops...if I get sick, I have to keep going.....

2008-09-11T06:21:00.002-04:00

I am silent. I talk. I stand still. I walk. Whatever I do, wherever I am, I draw attention. In the States, I am comfortable in my cocoon-I am content being unseen, living inside of a bubble, isolated from public eyes. But here there is no escape. Bubbles do not even exist. I am an animal in a zoo, I am a painting in a museum, a song to be heard, even skin to feel. It is the first time in my life (for an extended period of time)that I am labeled as "the other." Sometimes it's exhilirating-arousing sensations I have never truly felt, to be the origin of commotion, the cause of attention...and it can be fun. But then there are other times when I feel like I am being picked a part like a flower, petal by petal...the incessant gazes feel like slaps on the face...as disgust crosses their own...
It's just an unfamiliar experience-it's not unusual to be in a rickshaw and have a driver or passenger next to us stare us down while we are stopped in traffic. I have yet to use the word "jolu," which means in Kannada something like stop drooling....

I know the staring is a result of immense curiosity and my friends and I occasionally find humor in the situation. Because it's as if they are thinking, "Oh my god there is a white person! Everyone look!! Oh my god! Hey guys, look! AHHH!!" But sometimes I feel as if the thoughts are a bit more sinister. Last night, as I was recharging my phone at this vendor/outside convenience store type spot, I asked one of the employees and the young men around him about dancing in Bangalore. Ever since I arrived here, I've been hearing rumors about a dancing ban and I wanted to hear it from the Indians themselves. Most of the guys who were right next to me just bobbled their head and didn't give me any real answer...and then an older man to my right said "Yes, no dancing in Bangalore." He also said that it had been in place for three months. When I addressed the young men, I had asked if it was true about the ban and why it was in place. When the older man spoke, I turned to face him. "It's offensive," he continued. I think I broke a taboo and stared him down. No bobbles came from me. He saw my western eyes questioning his remark and said "women should show respect." I think I smiled to my friend Abby and started to walk away, baffled by the fact that Bollywood films are completely filled with music and dance and yet there's a rule against it. As we walked through the pack of men he said to us "go to Goa." I turned back, "or private party," he said. I think there was a bobble from my part. For those who aren't familiar with the geography of India, Goa is a state in the south western part of the country, a big hit with tourists because of its sandy beaches and heavily Portuguese influence. The British were never there and it developed in a very different way from the rest of India. There are even nude beaches! We're all planning to go.

Tommorrow we move into our apartments and I could not be more excited. We saw the accomodations yesterday and they are fantastic. Absolutely incredible. Brand new with plenty of space and already partially furnished. They were not completely ready when I saw them yesterday-our landlord's wife just passed away and they are a little behind, but we should have most of everything done for tommorrow. The location is insane. I don't know how to even begin to describe it. All I'll say right now is when we were there, there was music blasting from houses across from us-such a nice, perfect welcome! So many people live around us...the houses are very colorful, I can't wait to be there...a little worried about the noise, but it will all work out.

I haven't even been here for a week. It's the strangest thing. A week ago I was still in the states. Unbelievable, I feel like I've been here for so long already. I'm really looking forward to this weekend-I have so much to see in this city! I've already found a fabulous hang out spot called Infinitea, right on Cunningham road and about five minute walk from our center. I had dinner there yesterday and some tea and dessert today...it's a really great place...wonderful food...the largest and most interesting selection of teas I've ever seen. I have a feeling they'll be seeing a lot of me.

2008-09-10T04:06:00.006-04:00

September 9
The bus left around 9 in the morning from Ali Asker Road. For the next hour, we traveled to the outskirts of Bangalore, driving through the sea of rickshaws, cows, and chaos that makes up traffic in an Indian city. The sheer number of people reminds me of the awe that comes from seeing a night sky of a thousand stars. But there we are looking up towards something untouchable. Here, the stars completely surround us. They are beggars, they are Brahmins, they are Hindus and Muslims, they are Christians, they are Jains. Unlike the stars we see from afar, which all look alike, the amount of diversity on the ground amongst us is extraordinary. Everything is different. And yet, the sight of the sacred cow walking up and down the streets does not surprise me…I think it almost admirable to revere such an animal that is otherwise disregarded in the States. For the most part, I have only eaten vegetarian here and I plan to continue that diet. I have always been disgusted by the thought of eating animals-it’s so reassuring to be in a place where vegetarians are the norm.

As we continued on through the streets of Bangalore, I was seeing much of my new city for the first time and I felt a little saddened as we pulled away. Poverty became all the more familiar as we traveled towards the outskirts. In a way, I’ve been desensitized through pop culture and even though I was seeing “real” poverty for the first time, I wasn’t AS affected by it and I felt terribly guilty. Nothing here has surprised or shocked me. I came very well prepared. This doesn’t mean that what I am seeing is not moving me in one way or another-it is just the initial shock factor is not there. How to describe the scenes I saw? They resemble your crudest images of destitution. I’m sure my blog will be filled with endless descriptions in the months to come and I will struggle with the writing. For I like to think any situation has beauty, sometimes poetry only has to unveil it…but no language can find beauty in describing this kind of desperation, this dirt, this shit. Our destination, only a few kilometers away from that desperation, only further highlighted the contrast of extremes found here in India. Pulling into Angana retreat felt like getting off an elevator at the top floor of heaven, just after arriving from the ground of hell. No stops in between. Just one clear shot. We entered into a lush paradise-a forest shading us from the unsympathetic Indian sun, flowers resting in basins of water, freshly cut lawns, a pool that looked like it could be on the cover of a healing magazine, a building that felt more like a temple-all of this after arriving from the ground floor. The views were the complete opposite. Here is the website, check it out:) http://www.anganacountryinn.com/home.html

But after a few days here, the westerner in me is grumbling. Sleeping on mattresses next to floors that are also home to ant piles, adapting to the no toilet paper lifestyle and constantly filling my stomach with unfamiliar spices is leaving me a little off center. My body is beginning to have its first crisis, after almost a week of only Indian food, I need relief. Luckily, Bangalore is waiting with remedies. Pizza Hut it is tonight!

But in this foreign world, my life has become simpler. My feet are not bound by the harshness of shoes, I sleep on a mattress on the floor in a room which has only white walls, a fan, and some spare windows. I don’t need anything else. I wash my hair with a bucket of water, I sip chai throughout the day, I fall asleep to the sound of shrieking monkeys and watch as the monsoon rain invades our realm. At the moment, it looks like rain. I never thought I would be cold in India but last night, after hours of pooring rain, I wished for a sweatshirt and instead wrapped myself up in a blanket and went to sleep. Prior to that we had a classical music performance, complete with a dancer, vocalist, tabla and flue player, as well as a tampura. The Indian voice is as smooth as the silk of the sari and I ached to replicate the sound. I plan on looking into flute or sitar lessons while I am here.
Today is our final day here at Angana. We will be continuing our study of Kannada, the language of our state, Karnataka (Bangalore is the capital). Kannada is the mother tongue of Karnataka’s citizens but would probably be unrecognizable in other regions of India. Most people in Bangalore will be completely fluent in at least Kannada, Hindi (the national language), and English. Many will know more than that. The linguistic diversity of this country is astounding and I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to learn and speak a language that most Americans have never even heard of. Here are some examples of useful phrases, all of which I have already mastered:

Hello: Namaskara
Thank you very much: thumba dhanyavadagalu
How are you: neevu hegidheera?
Fine: chennagidhene

Pretty intense, no? I’m confident I’ll be able to pick it up quickly, especially since we live in our own apartments and maneuver our way around the city on our own. I’ll actually be checking out the accommodations tomorrow and we move in Friday. I cant wait! I’ll be staying in a two bedroom apartment with a study abroad student from UMASS Amherst named Abigail. She’s lived in Spain and Mexico and traveled through Europe. Everyone here in this program is so well traveled and it’s really inspiring. Humbling, as well.

India was always a distant a dream of mine, lingering as far away as the geography, but existing nonetheless. Now, I have made that journey to the fancies I always environed in my head. But I am a baby here, without the capabilities of speech and the capacity to understand the new. I am in a cradle, with my eyes peering at the unfamiliar, not quite sure which direction I should be looking in. America was a womb and here in India, I have been born. Everything is loud in this outside world. And I miss the quiet of my mother and the gentle rocking. the peacefulness of my existence has diminished and now I am screaming as I am born, I am freezing in India with my delicate skin naked and exposed for all to comment on. I will never again return to that womb of comfort and serenity. But instead I must seek it on my own. In a way it is terrifying, I have no parents to guide me now that I am born. India is my mother now, I must let her teach me how to live. But at times I feel unwelcome in this foreign place-that even though I am a curious newborn anxious to get it right, I feel like an unwanted child. Unplanned and an unpleasant surprise, I’m an orphan.

I'll continue the first impressions list, here's just one thing:

TRAFFIC: Without a doubt, the most intense traffic I’ve ever been in. Egypt is pretty close…but here there are just too many other factors-the rickshaws in addition to the other forms of public transportation, the animals including the cows, the thousands of stray dogs that roam, and the people-there are just so many! The whole place feels like a circus. Every time I get into rickshaw, which is several times a day, I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster ride and actually made some jokes about pitching an idea to Disneyworld. “The rickshaw.” Isn’t it catchy? There would be no seatbelts of course, four people crammed into a three person backseat, a situation where the driver stops to fix something, constant noise of honking, random animals in the mix-and most importantly, moments where one thinks they will get into an accident. I would say that in a five minute ride, maybe twenty times. Don’t you think it could be popular?

September 10
Going to sleep is quite an experience here. Noise constantly kidnaps me from my dreams. The morning call to prayer, sounding from the largest mosque in South India, only a kilometer away from where I sleep now, always strolls right through my nightly fancies and I end up following the strange sound, curious and bemused. Sleeping is not an option when it’s such a beautiful and haunting melody. The moment it finds my ears I know I live in a completely different world. It shakes my senses, usually interrupting scenes of familiarity and home. I hear the whining of a dog and I sigh. There are so many strays here…I am preparing myself to see a dog get hit by a car-it’s bound to happen….which is a traumatizing thought. It makes me so sad to see all of te strays and I know I need to volunteer at a shelter of some sort. A couple of hours ago, when the acll awoke me and I listened to the crying of a lone dog, my heart ached. I thought of my two dogs, living in doggy wonderland and I questioned why they were so lucky. The only explanation I could arrive at was quintessential Indian: my dogs have awesome karma. I’m serious. I think it’s an easy and convenient explanation that is almost dismissing the problems at hand, but in a small way, I’ve succumbed to the idea. I think it eases the pain my eyes feel as I see suffering-I’m sure the Indians feel similar.

***

I feel a little sick this morning. If I were to be truly Indian my response would be to tap into Ayur Veda, a form of traditional medicine that diagnosis and treats problems based on the elements that make up our bodies. There are five elements including ether (space), wind, fire, water, and earth. Then out of these elements there are three subgroups. Ether and wind make up vata, fire and water pitta, and water and earth are kapha. Everyone in India will know their body type…it’s usually an indication of how well we sleep, our diets and appetities, physical appearance, moods, as well as what diseases or problems we are most likely to encounter. I am, without a doubt, a pitta. And doing things in moderation is apparently what I need to work on. Nothing could be truer. Anyone who knows me well might laugh at such a statement…it hits it right on the nail. Especially my parents know I easily become obsessed with certain ideas or things, change my mind, and become passionate about something completely different. My overused phrase, “it’s so chill,” is an attempt to calm me down. I was told sixty percent of Indians use Ayur Veda as their main form of medicince and even conventional doctors will use it in addition to implementing western techniques. Somehow I’ve known about Ayur Veda but I cant remember where on earth I read about it. Maybe I’m recalling the information from a past life..hehe…...

The Beginning

2008-09-10T04:01:00.005-04:00

September 6

I feel amazing. Three dozen bangles jingle on my arm, a bindi lies in between my eyes, tailored pants fall gracefully on my legs and my head moves side to side in an attempt to practice the bobble I have recently come to love. I have spent about a
day and a half here in Bangalore thus far and it has been incredible. Today
especially was very special, since I have just recovered from my jet lag and was able to observe my new home without exhausted, somewhat critical eyes. Everything today I embraced.

This journey started several days ago now, when I woke in the early morning of September 3rd to drive with my father to Newark for a day of orientations and preparing for the flight ahead. Around 5pm, we left the Hilton we had spent the day at, and continued onto the airport. There were six of us students traveling on the group flight from Newark to Delhi, which as I’ve already mentioned, was supposed to take about 14 hours. As we passed through security, with my boarding pass in hand, it finally started to sink in. I am going to India. It became even more real as we approached the terminal gate…almost everyone waiting was Indian. We boarded the flight around 7:40 and it was easily the largest plane I’ve ever been on. Thankfully, there were two unoccupied seats next to mine which were gifts from God. It might have been the nicest flight I’ve taken. Except for the fact that we waited on the runway for more than two hours…there had been bad weather and all flights were delayed…but once we lifted off, I lied out with two blankets and using the travel goods I had just bought (travel pillow, eye mask, etc) fell into a deep sleep until 6am the next morning (eastern time). Due to our delay, we weren’t supposed to get into Delhi until around 12ish which was about 9pm in India. So I spent the rest of the time watching the random movies in front of my seat, eating a delicious Indian meal (we had forks and knives…so different than domestic flights in the US) and watching us fly over areas I’ll probably never visit. AKA Kabul, Afghanistan and etc. The most interesting part was flying next to a lightning storm-automatically images of us getting struck by lightning came to my mind…as I slept earlier, I dreamt of the plane enduring a horrible landing…how worrisome I can be sometimes. The plane landed quite nicely, and I left the plane a little bemused now that it was nighttime once again. Hadn’t we just left the darkness? As I stepped off the plane, the first bit of India to greet me was the steaming temperature and about twenty young Indian men peering at me. The six of us proceeded to go through customs, which took about twenty or so minutes. Then we headed to pick up are luggage, then get on a bus to take us to the domestic airport. Everything was dark but mysterious as we drove through the night…I was hypnotized by the scene around me…my first glimpses of India. When we got to the other side, we learned we would not be able to get into the actual airport terminals until two hours before our flight-which meant 4:35am. At that time, it was about 11:30pm. So, we all found a place to sit in the waiting area with the rest of the Indians, most of whom were lying out on seats. We packed our bags and before long, I got up to buy some chai (tea) and find an ATM so I could have some rupees on hand, which is the Indian currency (about $1=44 rupees). When I got back to my seat I wrote, read, listened to music, and observed the space around me. The biggest thing I noticed was that everyone had their shoes off. I have always embraced the barefoot notion and so this Indian custom greatly pleases me and I was happy to see it in action for the first time. My mom teases me for whenever I am driving with her in any car, I always take my shoes off. I’m beginning to feel like I truly was Indian in a past life. I wrote while I waited, “I know everything is telling me I should feel in a completely different world and yet I don’t. Now this maybe because I am stuck here inside the Delhi airport and can’t really go anywhere for several hours…but I feel completely at home, even here.”

After several hours of waiting, we were able to go through security and recheck our bags. We had a laugh when our friend Sam’s skateboard was taken away so it could go through security once more and when it was returned, he was asked to do some tricks by the Indians, right there in the airport. In Newark, a young Indian had thought it rather comical he was bringing a skateboard with him to Bangalore… “you’ll attract a lot of attention with that, yes, a white person on a skateboard…good luck.” After we checked our luggage, we had to wait about one more hour before we could proceed to the terminal. At that time, we went through more security and came to an area that only had four gates. This was the section for domestic flights for about 4 airlines for India. It looked like the size of the airport in Bangor, Maine. How strange…a city with one of the largest populations in the world…
Anyway, we finally got on the Bangalore flight and it took about 2.5-3 hrs. I took Jet Airways and it was fantastic. We were served a wonderful meal and the staff was very friendly. By the time we got into Bangalore, which was around 9amish, I had been up since 330pm the day before. I didn’t end up getting to sleep until about 5pm. So do the math. When I did get to sleep later in the day, I slept right through until 6am this morning.

When we arrived in the airport, we picked up our luggage and were greeted by two people from the India Center. It took about 45 minutes to get to where we are currently staying, which is the United Theological Center, our temporary accommodations until we move into our apartments later in the week. Tomorrow through Tuesday night we will actually be on a retreat and I feel kind of sad leaving the city to go to the outskirts after my wonderful experiences today. My first impressions were not as wonderful. They weren’t bad, I was just seeing Bangalore with sleepy, jet lagged eyes. Excited, but tired nonetheless. First of all, the airport (although nice) seemed to be in the complete middle of nowhere. I couldn’t believe that this was supposed to be near a city. As we drove in, the traffic felt like déjà vu (can anyone say, Egypt?) what with the incessant honking and chaos. I no longer am worried about my safety…I have truly accepted that it will appear like an accident is going to occur at any moment. I saw hints of India’s infamous poverty along the streets, stalls and vendors everywhere, as well as the beautiful saris coloring the atmosphere. As we were coming in, the idea of the “cosmopolitan” city we had heard of seemed a bit far fetched. This was nowhere near the definition that we were familiar of. The complete lack of orderliness and the ever presence of disarray was the confusing part. I think the idea of “cosmopolitan” meant clean, organized, tall buildings in our mind…but now we have new definitions of the word and a new understanding of the concept…a more Indian perspective…
When we arrived at UTC, its gardens and encompassing trees gave us a bit of relief from the world outside the gates…and we settled in to our new rooms, which have a 1940s old movie feel to them. Afterwards, we went back outside and proceeded to the India Center, where I’ll be spending a huge chunk of my time. The India Center is located on Ali Asker road, off of Cunningham, a street with many shops, stores, and entertainment. Compared to the surrounding streets, Ali Asker seems like a quiet and peaceful retreat. At the India Center, we had lunch and met many of the faculty members and staff. Towards the end, we set up a puja and made offerings to the elephant god Ganesh (for new beginnings), Lasksmi (prosperity and wealth), and one another goddess whose name has escaped me. It was an auspicious moment, where we presented flowers and basil to the pictures before us, rung bells to say to the gods “hey, listen to us!” and lighted candles. Hinduism has always fascinated me and I could not be happier surrounded by it. I have so much learning to do.
As I mentioned earlier, I fell asleep back at UTC around 5 and woke up this morning quite early. After having a complimentary breakfast, we headed to a nearby hospital/clinic/nursing home to check to if my friend Sonja had kidney stones. After finding out she was okay, the six of us exploring together caught two auto rickshaws (which I LOVE) and went to the Commercial Street area for shopping. Today I went a little crazy. I bought a salwar kameez, (what most women wear…a long tunic shirt, baggy pants, and a draped scarf) bangles (3 dozen for less than two dollars), a small statue of Ganesh (for new beginnings!), my cell phone (my number here is 9742104852), two tailored pants (for less than 14 dollars…they are amazing…baggy…I will be getting more…I only want to wear these) …I believe that’s it…but everything is so, so cheap here! I passed a store of tunics selling for 50 rupees, a little more than a dollar!! And haggling is very easy to do… “I’ll give you discount,” became a popular statement. Perhaps the best part of my day was getting to know the three girls in the cell phone store who have now become good friends: Priya, Sameena, and Kavitha (the h is silent). They couldn’t have been sweeter and we already exchanged phone numbers and emails!!! I’m so excited to hang out with them, they were wonderful! When I left and was already heading back to UTC on a rickshaw, my phone was vibrating and it was Sameena calling! We’ve invited them to our apartments next weekend…and Kavitha’s birthday is in October, so we’ll go celebrate with her. We spent at least an hour just talking with them…it was wonderful! Once again, I felt like an ignorant, uneducated American when they said they spoke five languages. “How many do you speak?” they asked. “Uh….” seemed to be my only response. I did teach them some Spanish, and when Sameena called, she enthusiastically asked, “Como estas??”

Two things I have come to love in India (not the only two things, but the two things I have loved the most thus far): the auto rickshaw and the head bobble. For those of you who don’t know, the auto rickshaw is an open vehicle, with a driver in the front carrying about three people in a backseat. There are no seatbelts (sorry family members) and no windows. There’s an overhead covering but not much else. They are EVERYWHERE and EXTREMELY cheap. On the way back from Commercial Street, we were able to get our ride for free just by shopping at a store. Or looking, rather. It feels like an amusement park ride on the rickshaw…it’s incredible. I think if I hadn’t been to Egypt or Naples, the traffic would be terrifying me. And the rickshaw especially, would seem like a death wish. But instead, I find it thrilling. I completely love it, all the risks included. My friend Annie joked yesterday “so who do you think will get in the first accident?” We thought it might be better to ask “who will be the first person to get the d word?” A little less severe, I think.
And then there is the head bobble. It has just about completed my life and colored every conversation I’ve had with a local. Us Westerners always nod our heads but I think that we should adopt the Indian custom instead. It has a lot more personality and for some reason, just feels very warm and welcoming. My goal is to perfect it for when I return to the states in December for vacation.

Today was a wonderful day. It’s a little after 7 pm, we are all kind of tired but may go out for some dinner. Tomorrow we’ll head to our retreat which will be something new and fun but I think I’ll be very happy to return to Bangalore. It’s crazy and intense and I love it. I have easily forgotten how much trash there is, the smells, how I have seen little boys defecating on the side of the road as I walked past, how a beggar came up to my friend in a rickshaw and tried to take one of her things, how I cannot drink the water and how I sanitize my hands constantly. Honestly, I’ve experienced very little cultural shock. But I was prepared. I came with knowledge and an understanding. And more than that, with the mentality that different does not mean “wrong.” I used to think that peacefulness could only be found in a quiet setting but I think I’ve found it here, amidst the chaos. Today, I love India. What an incredible beginning.

Last night in the States

2008-09-02T19:46:00.002-04:00

I'm starting to get a little anxious...today was a very busy and at times stressful day...tomorrow the plan is to wake up at 5 and be out of the house driving to Brooklyn around 530ish. The majority of the day will be orientations at LIU. I'm thanking God for the group flight...I don't think I could have flown to India on my own. We'll depart for Newark around 5ish but my flight doesn't leave until 8:30. Now here's the fun part. We get into Delhi around 8pm the next day. So have fun on September fourth...I'll time travel right past it. The next flight is from Delhi to Bengaluru (Bangalore) at 6am the next morning (friday, sept 5). We get to my new home about three hours later. Overall, I'll be traveling about 8,000 miles. It seems so strange...I can't believe it's actually going to happen.
Well...I'm off to finish packing. Next time I write will be from India! Namaste!

2008-09-01T16:28:00.001-04:00

It was only until I left the world of materialistic pleasure that I truly found happiness. It was not until my belongings were packed away in a single suitcase that I was no longer labeled by what I possessed, but rather defined by what I knew. For the nineteen years I was raised in the States, my existence had been characterized by things: objects I owned, objects I wanted and objects I lacked. Gratefulness never came with an arrival of the additional but rather with the realization that what I had was enough. We are not just obese in the physical sense. Our minds and spirits can not stop eating the fat that is our materialistic culture. We are obsessed with the taste of the extra, the unnecessary and we continue to eat even after we are full. We bury ourselves underneath the excess and the longer we reside there, the deeper into the earth we fall. Who was the first person to emphasize more? Who was the first to champion quantity over quality? The first to discard, disregard, discount what they already had? Why can’t we listen to the movements of our stomachs pleading with us to stop the intake? Our environment is one of continuous feasts and parties, of celebrations without purpose. We toast only for the taste of champagne.
But my diet is beginning to change through travel. And my body is thankful for the lighter load I carry. I’m not weighted down by all the needless burdens. I no longer linger at the dinner table.

Videos!

2008-08-31T11:03:00.007-04:00

GREECE

ITALIA

EGYPT

RUSSIA

CROATIA

NORWAY

2008-08-29T17:16:00.003-04:00

From my bedroom window I can look out to the ocean. It's a comforting view, one that brings peaceful images to mind...images of sunrises and foreign soil, of familiar faces, of waves crashing alongside the ship beneath us...can it be true that a week has passed since I've been back in the states? My body is uneasy on the land...I miss the gentle rocking of the sea. My mind is in a state of confusion...I belong back there, with my companions; surely you know their names-excitement, enthusiasm, exhuastion...we've left each other's side for awhile but I know I will see them shortly...when I return abroad...in five days. Oh India...you don't seem real. I can't believe the life I'm living...it's everything I desired so deeply and for so long...and yet I'm sacrificing a lot for this...I know India will be an earthquake within my mind, my body, my spirit...I'm anticipating all the pollution, the poverty, the chaos. I'm anticipating getting extremely sick, cursing my naivety and feeling guilty for my privileged existence. Constantly. But I don't want to stay in the box that is America! I want to see and grow and cry and laugh...I'm as ready as I can be for the extremes that await me in India. For despite the frustration and discomfort that I will surely feel, these experiences will shape me in becoming the person I aspire to be. I aspire to be stronger and wiser and India will be the greatest teacher of all. My dream has always been to be her pupil.

2008-08-27T08:41:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was a day of complete laziness. I'm a pretty pathetic picture right now, listening to Bon Iver's cd "For Emma, Forever Ago," on constant repeat, staring at the hundreds of pictures I took, believing if I look at them long enough the scenary will replace where I am now. I'm trying to digest everything and yet I'm attempting to prepare for India all the same...I miss the people who spent the summer with me tremendously...they are the only ones I can truly talk with about my travels...for they were there with me experiencing the same sensations, emotions, ....

My flight for India leaves on the night of September 3rd. I think it will be about 11 or twelve hours. I know in India, it will be September 5th when we arrive. I'll be heading for some orientations in NY on the 2nd...so I have now just about a week. I took my first malaria pill last night...I feel like the moment should have been photographed or something. Surely having contact with malaria meds is something special. Okay...I'm going to go do some Hindi, watch the Namesake, read Holy Cow...call the credit card companies, find a place in CT to find a salwar kameez....hmm, that might be hard.

Back in the States

2008-08-24T21:48:00.002-04:00

How quickly things have disappeared. The touch of the wind, the sound of the waves, th excitement, the anticipation. The connections, the laughter and the awe...it has all been replaced with this emptiness...in all the ten countries I visited this summer, I have never felt this out of place. I was one of the first to walk off the gangway (all a's-yes!) and there waiting for me with flowers stood my mother, and together we rode off towards the life I had previously known...seeing art exhibits (Hirschorn) and art films (man on wire)...seeing events (Lion King at the Kennedy Center)...reading the paper and stopping at starbucks....and yet, it all felt so odd...after living on a ship for near 70 days, the land seemed alien. Not any land, but American soil. It didn't help that the boyfriend figure decided to break it off indefinitely because of my now past and future travels abroad. After a summer of waiting to see him, eh-whatever, it's not worth it to discuss. I mention it only to support the fact that my short time back has not been marked by feelings of relief but rather anxiety. Now, more than ever, I am ready to go to India. I spent $70 yesterday at the bookstore ...big surprise there. I've decided to cut my visit here in DC short and so I've bought a flight back to CT where I'll stay until I head to India. INDIA! Ah...it will save me.

I'm going to try to upload some videos from this summer. So stay tuned!

2008-08-16T12:22:00.002-04:00

In less than a week, I will be returning to the States. In less than two weeks after that, I will be traveling to India to spend a year living in Bangalore. People gasp when I say I have about 10 days until I leave again but the closer I’ve come to “home,” the more 10 days seems like too much. I can’t imagine going back to America to live the life that most of these students onboard will return to. Before this summer, my body ached to explore new sensations and my mind yearned for fresh stimulation. There was not a day that passed on this journey that those yearnings were not fulfilled. But they are more powerful than ever, taking control over my body, like a disease of urge…propelling me forth to experience what I have not felt or seen before. This summer was a collection of contrasts…of immaculate beauty in the landscape of Norway, the dilapidated apartments on the outskirts of St. Petersburg-remnants of a Communist past, the enveloping veil next to my own bare skin…and even in the city of Dubrovnik, a scenery of mixed realities…of enchanting streets that hide evidence of the Yugoslav wars.
Growing up within the bubble that is America, there is a certain detachment that has been bred within our identities…so that while I diligently read the international sections of the Times and Post each morning, I would often forget about the sufferings of others as I basked in the comfort and ease that steers our American lives. We become so preoccupied with our own trivial problems which in return, prevents us from appreciating everything we are blessed with. To be honest, this truth always floated around my conscious and there were times when I felt overpoweringly guilty…about what I have, about what other people lack…but now, I can’t return to the States…to the isolation…the seclusion. Not yet, at least.

Concepts of Clothing in Russia and Egypt

2008-08-16T12:20:00.002-04:00

Here is a paper I wrote for my women's studies course:

After observing gender relations in ten different countries across Europe and North Africa, two images remain powerfully inscribed in my mind: first, the sensual, promiscuous and exposed Russian woman walking down the street and secondly, the eyes of the Egyptian Muslim female peering out from behind her hijab. Despite the two distinct pictures, the females are bonded by the patriarchal, male dominated societies in which they live and also through the expectations and priorities of their sex in general. That is, to be a mother and uphold the family ideal. And yet, regardless of the fact that these women share similar destinies, the role clothing plays in guaranteeing that destiny is quite different. Clothing is a very powerful tool for it “inscribes bodies with gender, class, status, ethnicity, race, religion, and age” (Cinar 55). Thus, the differences in clothing style between the Russian and Egyptian woman is reflective of the differences between the two cultures.
First, let us begin with painting a picture of the Russian female. She is young, beautiful, and dressed in the latest fashion. As her high heels click down the street of Nevsky Prospekt in St. Petersburg, she passes by woman after woman who look exactly like her. During my observances, the majority of women were slaves to their stilettos, all remarkably well dressed, and looked right out of Vogue’s latest issue. No matter where I went in Russia, I felt underdressed and frumpy. For here there was no lack of skin tight jeans, makeup, and individuals who looked more like mannequins than actual women. When I began to talk to these walking mannequins about their role in Russian society, it became a little clearer. They were not defined by simply being unique individuals, but as mothers. It was to be someone who raised a family and took care of children and her husband. Regardless of whether or not she was also a career woman, marriage came first. Young women, some 21 or younger, explained to me that many of their friends were already married. And truthfully, weddings seemed to be non stopping events during the five days I spent in Russia. If I asked about what made Russian woman distinct from other European women, they would say, “Russian women care more about the home. We love the hearth, our mothers, we love to take care of the house.” Despite the changing status of women across the world, the priority in Russia is still to be with a man and to have a home. One middle aged woman seemed to say it all when she declared, “we are nothing without men.” It is true that the younger generation may not see it exactly like this, but her statement still holds some truth. But in a country where divorce rates are reputedly very high, maintaining the family household doesn’t seem to be as important as just getting married.
Clothing is a useful tool used in forming those marriages. In St. Petersburg, Russia, exposed skin and the latest trends are directly correlated with the priority of women to have families. For the clothing is an attracting device, one meant to lure the attention of others, specifically, men. In this case, female bodies are used to overemphasize femininity and to keep the identities of male and female separately defined. Thus, clothing, or lack thereof, reinforces the ideal of Russian women in society. Together, the Russian women are bonded through their similar expectations and concepts of body. But on a larger scale, the nation is unified through their appearance. As one scholar notes, “ the building of a state and the creation of a nation involve different interventions and inscriptions upon the body ,whether through the regulation of clothing, the creation of an order of bodily aesthetics, or the assignment of carefully forged rules, such as mother or soldier, all serving on way or another the formation of a sense of nationhood ” (Cinar 53).
In Egypt, clothing was even more tied to nationhood. As I meandered through the streets of Alexandria and Cairo, I witnessed more than 90% of the women covered with the hijab. Like in Russia, the importance of motherhood is never forgotten. One anthropologist notes, “the ideal woman is a wife and a mother, she is a woman who raises a new generation of Muslims, wears the veil, guards her modesty, obeys her husband, and expresses her views only through her husband” (Bahira 9). If we twist the opening of this statement in a slight way to say, “the ideal women is a wife and mother, she is a woman who raises a new generation of Russians,” most women in St. Petersburg would see that as valid. And yet the latter part of the declaration is what divides theses two cultures, and it has to do mainly with clothing. The veil has a powerful and ubiquitous presence in Islamic society. It cannot be forgotten that for different people, even within that society, the veil is worn for different reasons. Some women say it is their personal choice, while others are forced to cover themselves by their fathers or husbands. One woman I encountered, who was an Egyptologist, professed to me, “I am Muslim and I will never cover my hair!” Still, her views represented an extremely small percentage of the population. Half of the women seemed to be wearing full burkas, covering everything but their eyes, while the rest only wore headscarves and modest clothing. Modesty is the key term. Unlike the Russian women who were proud to share their bodies, Egyptian women felt the opposite. Whereas the Russians used clothing as an attracting tool, Egyptians used clothing to repel attention. And yet both help signify to men that they are
“wifely” material. In Egypt, covering one’s self demonstrates to the public that that woman is modest, respectful, and pious. In Russia, like in most other Western countries, clothing is used to exhibit our beauty and even personality. We make clothing entirely unique and customized, but use it also as a way to showcase our bodies. But for the women I saw in Alexandria and Cairo, “their veiled wife represents, symbolically, a traditional, conservative, pious woman. Even though gender roles may be changing within the intimate boundaries of family life, men can broadcast that they have chosen this particular woman because of her morals and strong faith, as can be seen in her choice of clothing” (Bahira 12). So here, clothing is not only an indication of a woman’s morals but also her religious views, views which most of the time, reinforce the patriarchy.
And yet the same thing is happening in Russia, where views of clothing were the complete opposite. A society where there is so much emphasis on a woman’s body and appearance is naturally linked to the institution of patriarchy. Whether it be in Russia, where clothing and the body are used to attract notice, or in Egypt, where they are used to resist it. In addition, these are both cultures where the ideal woman is directly connected to the concept of motherhood. A woman must be first, a family member, and second, an individual of her own choosing. She must think of being a mother and supporting a husband first before pursuing a career, if that’s even possible. Of course, women are almost always drawn to bearing children and having a family. But, in Russia and Egypt, the society expects that women follow this model, whether they want to or not. The culture and politics of the state creates this priority for each female, regardless of the individual’s personal desires. Despite such a similar environment for women to live in, the attitudes towards body and clothing are at the polar ends of the spectrum.
Still, the reason for these disparities is quite obvious. They are, without a doubt, the result of political, religious, and cultural establishments set in place. There’s no question the recent phenomenon of veiling is a consequence of the Islamic revival in the Middle East. The politics, which are intrinsically bonded, only support the hijab. If there is an exception, it would be the highly secular state of Turkey. And yet, that the expectations and priorities for women are the same in countries completely separated by political and religious circumstance, demonstrates that the social status of women around the world is more similar than we think.

Back to life at sea

2008-08-13T05:59:00.000-04:00

Hello all! Let me give you an update on our shipboard life. Since we’ve left Croatia, most of the time has been spent writing papers and taking classes. Finally, we have a day off. But of course, this day will also be spent writing papers. The first one I wrote was about comparing sacred spaces in three distinct countries and how access to those spaces is not the same for each location, and that difference is reflective of the differences in politics, society, and culture. I talked about St. Isaac’s in St. Petersburg, Our Lady Cathedral in Antwerp, and Morsi Abu El-Abbas in Alexandria. Since we’re so busy, it’s been hard to digest everything that’s happened this summer. And besides, we’ve had some distractions. Last night was the Crew Talent Show and it was amazing. We’ve had two talent shows already for the rest of the shipboard community, and neither of them compared to this. Let me just say first that the crew has been wonderful this summer. I had heard rumors before the trip on face book groups that the crew did a great job but I had no idea how sweet, considerate, and helpful they all are. Most are from the Philippines and travel onboard each semester. Each morning when I go to breakfast, the crew working in the dining halls cheerfully greet us. Everyone happens to think that their steward is the best (yeah, no one’s got anything on crispin). We’re all sort of used to our rooms being cleaned every day and our beds being made. Some days, I’m guessing today will be one to of them, we tell our steward he doesn’t need to clean our room…because honestly, it’s not always necessary. But they are just fantastic. And honestly, the talent show was just as exciting as pulling into a port…they sang, they danced…wow…it was so entertaining, everyone loved it. I took a lot of videos so I’ll try to put something together to give everyone an idea…I’ve been making videos for each country but I don’t have the internet time to upload them…so when I get back to the states I’ll definitely put each one up…until then, I would highly recommend checking out this website: http://www.semesteratsea.org/voyages/current-voyage/summer-2008-photos-and-blogs.php. They have a great collection of slideshows with audio prepared by our very own photo mike on board ship. My favorite one is about Egypt…specifically because they have the audio of when we found out we were going to Alexandria…my eyes teared up when I heard it again…it was such an exhilarating moment…

I’d like to give everyone an idea of what life on board the MV Explorer is like. By now, everyone is used to the currents of the sea and not many people experience much seasickness anymore. Then again, we’re going to be on the Atlantic again so hopefully it will be calm. I don’t think I can emphasize the feeling of unity among our shipboard community enough…there is such a strong bond between us all, and it has made this trip all the better. Okay-so here’s a little bit of a schedule of my day when we have classes: wake up maybe around 7-730, head to breakfast, check email, do some reading, Global studies class (mandatory for all students, there are two sections) from 9ish till about 1030, then walk about 4 minutes to another classroom, where I have Ritual and Belief for an hour and fifteen. That brings me to about 12pm and it’s time for lunch. Then, I head back to my room to do work, maybe take a nap…until I have my third and final class, Women in Cross Cultural Perspectives, which is in the late afternoon. Each night we have “community colleges” which are a series covering a wide range of topics. I actually think I’ll be heading to one tonight, lead by one our professors from Charles University in Prague. OH! I didn’t really keep my blog up to date about all our interport lecturers we had, who were great and very informative, but remember I mentioned Masha Lipman? Who was from Russia? A couple days ago, CNN interviewed her about the crisis between Russia and Georgia. As our Global Studies prof said, “you heard it first at Semester at Sea.”

Okay that’s it for now! Today we had to wake up before 10 because of a lifeboat drill…the 600 students onboard were less than happy. But Saving Private Ryan is on so I’m procrastinating on doing work and watching this instead. Oh well. Talk later!

2008-08-10T07:50:00.002-04:00

It’s a surreal feeling…being finished with my summer explorations, my moments of enlightenment and epiphany, the emotions of excitement and anticipation. I have never had two months go by quicker than these past ones. Part of me is still clinging to the rail of the 7th deck with enthusiasm, seeing our first port of Bergen in the horizon, waiting for us. Everything since is a blur. Everything since is an unawakened dream of wonder unveiled, a masterpiece of magnificence. If I remember myself that morning, I cannot help but smile at my childlike eagerness…it was as if I were about to enter a whole other realm of existence. Today marks the departure of that realm and for now, I am ready to go home, because in a couple of weeks, I will be headed to another one, in the Far East.

Fully recovered from my festivities of the past night, I awoke early and took the tender to shore. I immediately caught a bus to take me down to Old Town for the last time. I had planned to visit a gallery called “War Photo Limited,” which I had read about in one of my guidebooks. Opened in 2003 by a New Zealand photographer, War Photo Limited showcases war photrographs from various conflicts around the world, including Afghanistan, Liberia, and of course, the war here in the early 90s. At the entrance of the gallery is a sign that displays their mission: It is the intent of War Photo Limited to educate the public in the field of war photography, to expose the myth of war and the intoxication of war, to let people see war as it is, raw, venal, frightening, by focusing on how war inflicts injustice on innocents and combatants alike. The current exhibit focused on the child soldier and was shown on the first floor. The second had photographs from previous exhibits and also tv screens showing slideshows. I stood in front of these for at least a half an hour, unwilling to take my eyes away. Perhaps the most shocking photo was of a man holding up a decapitated head, very close to the photographer’s lens, I might add. The pictures themselves were beautifully photographed, but very chilling. The majority of the photographers I had never heard of. There was a quote by one photographer, named Noel Quidu, which particularly caught my attention. As a photojournalist who has done a lot of work in Liberia, he wrote,
“I have always been fascinated by mysterious Africa, a continent haunted by misfortune. I want to believe that my images can ‘make a difference.’ Africa scared me, and it is always necessary for me to return to the source of this fear, this land of huge reservoirs of plundered raw materials, and of manpower condemned to fighting wars or retreating to exile. We have to denounce violence, to call spade to spade and to make our images a document, a relentless protest against these wars, that are a permanent plague of this too often forgotten continent.”

Another thing that stopped me in my tracks was a picture of a young female Maoist rebel, who was wearing a Britney Spears t-shirt. The image was striking…here she stood, with two comrades of hers, all of which had guns in their hands, looking fierce and at the centerpiece is none other than Britney. For three years, this girl was a part of the Maoist Guerilla Movement of Nepal and had no idea who the pop star was. As the photographer took the picture, she recited to herself, “loves makes people weak, while sadness makes them tough.” She sure looked it. There were so many other photographs that made me gasp or sigh…all of which leaving a strong impression. I bought a poster of this picture, which I am looking forward to hanging on my wall (photograph taken off the website).

Besides climbing the walls, visiting this gallery was my favorite activity in Croatia. It’s off the beaten path but a definite must see…especially for those interested in photography and art. The museum itself was very well maintained…I really had forgotten I was in the Old Town. I even wanted to ask about the music playing…it was wonderful. I would encourage people to visit their website to at least view some of the images I saw today.

When I was finished with that, I found a nice bookstore to peruse and actually came with away with a new book, titled Nobody’s Home by Dubravka Ugresic, a Croat. The book is a collection of travel essays which I thought was very appropriate. I then continued to walk around, and ended up buying a pair of earrings from a girl named Mirna Hodonj. They are unlike anything I have seen before! She told me the editor of Elle in Croatia actually contacted her about the designs. Take a look, her website is www.mirnahodonj.com. And that was about it! I knew my day would be short but I need to get started with my papers. We have so many…and our first on is due on Tuesday…which doesn’t leave much time for procrastinating. At least not with our schedule.

2008-08-09T16:45:00.004-04:00

Well, today was an interesting day. Last night a bunch of my friends and I went out to celebrate my birthday and we ended up hitting an Irish pub in the old city. They generously bought me quite a few drinks and a few hours later, I was pretty drunk and pretty sick. This morning was so horrid that I didn’t end up getting out till the mid afternoon…and even that was a little difficult. But I would have been very upset with myself if I had stayed on the ship, despite being ill. So I headed out to see more of the old city, and discovered that the usual buses we took weren’t running, so I did some walking and picked up another bus to take me to Pile Gate. The buses are ALWAYS soooo crowded…most tourists rely on them for transportation, and of course, the locals do as well. So once I got to Grad, the first thing I did was check out the Franciscan Monastery and Pharmacy, right near the entrance to the city. The Pharmacy is thought to be perhaps the oldest pharmacy in Europe, dating from the early 14th century. The Pharmacy is in the current museum, which holds religious artifacts such as paintings, basins, jewelry, etc. My favorite artifacts were the old books and manuscripts the monks kept…they are pieces of artwork in itself! All those images of how medieval books used to be…large, with incredible script and decoration…those images came to life here in the museum. I wasn’t able to take photographs but they were truly stunning. Right next to the museum were the peaceful and intimate cloisters…a setting that I always love to be near. There is something so gratifying about cloisters, perhaps it is the serene and intimate atmosphere which seems happy to embrace every visitor.

After visiting the monastery, I continued on to see a long term exhibit in the Sponza Palace, which is free to the public. It is a memorial to the Dubrovnik Defenders, about 300 men who died defending the city in the early 90s. Walking along the picturesque Stradun, it’s really difficult to remember that a war occurred here less than 20 years ago. The city is so rich in beauty that makes the thought of war incomprehensible. But it did occur, when in 1991, Serbia, Montenegro, and the Yugoslav National Army attacked the city. The memorial was simple and yet very moving. Black and white pictures of the men who died lined the walls, and so many were very young. There was also a slideshow of pictures taken during the siege…which was really touching because the same damaged sites shown in the photos were the very places I had been exploring…and then I remembered seeing damaged houses during my walking tour yesterday around the walls-and I should have made the connection then but honestly I was so overtaken with the amazing views…my mind was only thinking of how incredibly striking the scenery was. But this exhibit made a lasting impression on me and after I exited the palace, I saw Dubrovnik in another sense…a city that is still healing…it’s uncanny to me how people would want to bury this city…how individuals would want to destroy such magnificence …
After the exhibit, I went in search of a pizza slice since I hadn’t eaten at all yet. I was easily satisfied and then actually hit up the cutest smoothie place…had a refreshing drink, brought a present, and headed back to the ship. Naturally I’ve decided to stay in since I still feel a little under the weather, and just tired.

Tomorrow is our last day in port…not only in port but our last day in our last country! And I know this sounds crazy, but I’m not planning to spend too much time in Dubrovnik and the reason being is I have a million papers and field reports to write…and I’m getting a little stressed. Actually, everyone is. So I will try to head out in the morning, hit up the close grocery store (I did stop there on my way back today to start stockpiling food…we will have I think 12 days at sea? I wasn’t the only one doing this) and maybe do some last minute souvenir shopping. I can’t get over how beautiful Croatia is, and the old town of Dubrovnik especially. And luckily, if there was a time and place to get sick and have to stay in bed most of the day, it would be here-only because the old town is small and I did most of the sightseeing yesterday. But out of every place we’ve visited, I would love to come back and spend a week here, just relaxing. Yes, indeed!

Dubrovnik, Croatia!

2008-08-08T12:57:00.007-04:00

Dubrovnik is the most beautiful city I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. It is the pearl of the Adriatic, an awe inspiring haven of history and charm, a refuge for romance. It is an awesome and grand port with its city walls covering the Old Town, but also a cozy and intimate location with the streets contained within. I cannot imagine a better choice for our last country. It’s so different than any place we’ve discovered. So many people had told me Croatia was lovely, but seeing it first hand overwhelmed my senses.

This morning I woke up around 7ish, and prepared to disembark the ship in a way unlike we’ve ever done before. Since Dubrovnik is basically the coolest place ever, there are too many cruise ships alongside the port, so we are actually anchored in Gruz Harbor and have to take the tenders to shore. We had never done this before so it was a tad exciting and still is, a little. This morning it was packed but on our way back there were only a few others on the boat. When our feet finally touched Croatian soil, we found a place to exchange money and looked to get on a bus to get to Stari Grad, or Old Town, which is a UNESCO World Heritage site. We were told we could take 1 of 4 buses to get to Pile Gate, one of the entrances into the city walls. It was extremely crowded on the bus and we got to the Gate about ten minutes later. The first thing we did when we entered the Old Town was bought some waters and head to climb the city walls. This was one of the most fun things I’ve done this entire trip and provided us with perhaps the most beautiful views. It cost us about 12 dollars and took around 1 hr and a half to walk the whole wall. The whole city was crowded with tourists and since the walls are the most popular thing to do, we were never alone. And the sun! I have never been hotter! We were all sweating horribly the entire time! Goodness gracious….so hot. I really can’t imagine senior citizens doing this walk and on this day…honestly, if you visit Dubrovnik (which everyone should!!!!!!!), do not go in August. The place is bombarded with tourists and heat. The whole time I was walking the city walls, I imagined coming back in fall…how lovely it must be that time of the year…the walls are 1,940 meters long and date from the medieval period. In the city, there are two great fortresses, four forts, 12 towers, and five bastions. I think my favorite part of the walk came at the end, when we climbed the highest vantage point, Minceta Tower. We could see the entire walled city and it was wonderful. All the roofs are this wonderful reddish hue and it unites the city in a remarkable way. I forgot that I was in the Croatia, or in Europe at all. This place was something else…something that belonged in a fairytale or surreal dream. Something that lived within the history of the past…I was enamored. When we got back down (after I embarrassed myself in front of all these tourist by running into the side of the wall, I have a large bruise on my leg to prove it) we were right in front of Onofrio’s Fountain, which dates from 1444 and still provides water (I filled my water bottle up here). From here, the main street is Stradun (also known as the Placa), which starts at the Pile Gate and leads to the Sponza Palace. The Stradun is the usual main street of a touristy location-lots of restaurant and shops. Also at the end of the street is the large Clock Tower, first built in 1444 as well. Right beside is Rector’s Palace, somewhere I have yet to visit but look forward to seeing. This area is known as the Luza, the main square of the area. In the middle is Orlando’s Column, a place were people met, declarations were read, and criminals were tied. The statue is actually of Roland, the legendary knight. Very close is the Cathedral, but we were less impressed with what we saw. There wasn’t anything spectacular about this church and honestly we could have skipped it. But it was free and open to the public so a peek didn’t hurt. What was nicer was the Jesuit Church, finished in 1725 and at the top of a grand staircase. The Church is also known as St. Ignatius of Loyola and is particularly interesting for its four side altars. It was also nice to get some shade for a few minutes-which was actually the best part. We had lunch at a great little restaurant called Oliva Pizzeria, which was recommended to us by a fellow SASer. I had an AMAZING pizza…

After lunch we headed to the Dominican Monastery, near the Ploce
Gate and built in the 1300s. My favorite section was the 15th century cloister that greeted us when we first walked in. There was a museum attached, which we briefly visited to see the religious paintings. All in all, we were there for about 20 minutes. Honestly, you may be able to see all of Dubrovnik (Old Town) in one day. Besides walking the City Walls, there isn’t much to do. But it so amazingly wonderful just walking around, sitting down to a café, watching the world go by…besides a few other sites, that’s all I have planned for the next day or so. Tonight we’ll go out to celebrate my birthday and try to find the Olympics playing somewhere…okay, that’s it for now!

Birthday!

2008-08-07T13:22:00.000-04:00

So today we are sailing to Croatia and it is my birthday :) I would like to say thank you to all the people who made this day special for me and even surprised me with a wonderful birthday cake here onboard!!!!: Helena, Momoko, Ryan, Beth, Danielle, Eric, Annie, Sarah, Alex, David, Alli, and Travis. Thank you!!

2008-08-06T09:52:00.004-04:00

August 6, 2008

Today was our last day in Greece and I’m about to crash (I think part of that has to do with the fact that I just hit my head on the corner of my bed…so clumsy!). I woke up a little before eight to catch breakfast and then my two friends, Alex and David and I headed to the station to get the metro to take us into town. We transferred at Omonia to get to Panepistimio, which is where the University of Athens is located. There was a Starbucks right there and I took the opportunity to bond with fellow baristas and get a pomegranate peach frappucino, which I’ve never seen in the States. Maybe it’s new this summer. We’ve seen Starbucks EVERYWHERE. Obviously, it’s not like New York or DC but there are a lot in Athens, which is interesting.

The three of us wanted to get to the top of Lycabettus Hill, which is the highest peak in Athens (277 meters). It’s visible from many parts of the city and I was particularly intrigued when I saw it from the top of the Acropolis. We had heard about a funicular going up but decided to hike it instead. I’m still debating in my mind whether this was a smart thing to do or not. Luckily, it was in the morning so it was not as hot as it could have been. However, it was still really, really, really, really, really, really warm (get the picture?). Seriously. I wore this big flowy dress I bought a couple of days ago and thank goodness it was light and airy (and large too…one size for all kinda thing). It was a really steep climb but like always, the view was totally worth it. At the top of the mountain stands the 19th century Chapel of St. George, which is very small but cute. I, of course, went in to kiss an icon or two. It was a really amazing panoramic view of the entire city. The Acropolis looked even more remarkable from up high. I’ve seen so many awesome views on this trip…collectively, they have been probably my favorite sightseeing activities. The mountain is such a peculiar shape and right in the city of Athens…it seems completely out of place! And in fact, as the myth goes, Athena supposedly just dropped the mountain there (naturally there’s more to it but I forget the rest of the details). Perhaps the most peculiar part was the difference in the scenery of the actual mountain itself…all around the base of the mountain were amazing pine trees but about halfway up, everything became arid.
Before we headed back down, we walked over to where Likavitos Theater is but weren’t able to go inside. It’s a completely modern outdoor theater now, and shows still go on here. When we climbed back to the bottom, we came to Syntagma Square. Syntagma Square is a hub of activity, where many protests often take place (the Parliament building is right there) and where transportation is readily available in various forms (metro, tram, buses, trolley buses, etc). Syntagma Square is also near many of the big touristy locations, such as Lycabettus Hill, the Acropolis, the Agora, the Plaka, the National Gardens and so forth. We didn’t feel like walking so got on the metro to take one stop to Akropoli. After getting off, we walked around a bit, and stumbled upon the Arch of
Hadrian, which like many other things in the city, is made completely of marble. It is thought that the Greek citizens constructed the arch in honor of the Roman Emperor Hadrian. Not much else to say, it was a nice arch.
Athens is wonderful because it’s easy to find ruins of historical or ancient significance almost anywhere you go. One can just be walking along and bam! Right before your very eyes is a ruin you have only seen in history books. For a history buff, it’s spectacular. After a quick picture, we continued on through the Plaka, stopping at shops along the way, and making it back towards Monastiraki station. I bought some souvenirs and gifts and my friend David actually bought armor! By the time we were done, all three of us wanted to go back to Piraeus. The heat and walking up Mt. Lycabettus exhausted us. On the way back from the station, we even took a bus back towards our ship. There was still so much I didn’t see in Athens but I’m quite sure I’ll be back soon enough.

I can say without hesitation that I enjoyed the city of Athens more than any other city we’ve ported in. Bergen was charming and quaint, St. Petersburg intrigued me right off the back, Antwerp was a funky little location that had spunk, Naples was just…I don’t know how to describe Naples, compared to other cities there aren’t many fine marks or positive adjectives I can use…Egypt was simply the best three days of the trip…but Athens felt like home. Greece felt like home. Even though I can speak only a little of the language, (SIGH) everything was so familiar. The sounds, the faces, I had all seen them before. I was more comfortable in Athens, as if it were a city I know well, like DC. After using the metro for several days, I feel confident that I could have gotten anywhere in the city I wanted to go with particular ease. Athens was not the cleanest, nor the prettiest, perhaps not even the friendliest city I’ve encountered, but it felt right to me. I really think I could pack my bags and move there. It felt like an enclave from the rest of the world. All the history, the pride-there were more flags flying here than in any other country we’ve visited (like the States). But I just loved it. The only thing that could have made it better is if I were with my family or Greek friends…but that will be for another time. It’s hard for me to write down impressions like I do with the other countries…because so much I found here I had already encountered…the culture is the complete same. There’s a joke that Greek Americans are even more “greek” than the Greeks themselves. And there’s definitely some truth to that. Because there were no eurekas for me here, no surprises. I think the main thing is I just came away feeling even prouder of my heritage (which I didn’t think was possible) than before. I want to go back so badly…and stay longer. Four days was not nearly enough.

Poros, Hydra, Aegina

2008-08-05T15:04:00.007-04:00

So today I did a full day excursion with SAS to three of the Saronic Islands: Poros, Hydra, and Aegina. My alarm clock went off a little later than I anticipated, so I only had enough time to grab a pastry and get on the bus. We took the bus around the port of Piraeus to board our ferry for the day, which supposedly could hold up to 500 passengers. There were about 130 SASers on board, so the rest were other tour groups. I met up with my friend David and we actually spent the whole day exploring the islands together. It took about to hours to get to our first island, Poros. We had been sitting up on the top deck and the sun was so, so strong! I must have applied sunscreen three or four times. It was a relaxing ride for the most part; I had brought my Herald Tribune from yesterday so I read that and later on I picked up today’s copy and had it for later (omg, how I love newspapers). I actually read two articles about a very bizarre and tragic murder on the island of Santorin (the Herald Tribune, which is the Global Edition of the NY Times, also includes an English version of a local paper…Athens puts out the Kathimarini which the Herald includes). Supposedly, some guy murdered his girlfriend and the girlfriend’s dog and beheaded them! He then proceeded to carry them around the town but was caught, thank goodness. Just goes to show there are crazy lunatics everywhere. On a lighter note, the under 18 basketball team from Greece beat Lithuania in the EU championship Sunday night. YAY. I learned all this and more on the two hour ride.
As we were approaching Poros, I became very excited upon seeing the picturesque center of town-all the houses were cream colored with tan/orange roofs (orange is too extreme a description…) and they were all made on the slope of a hill. Like Hydra where we were going to next, Poros was very hilly and mountainous. Supposedly, although I didn’t know this when we were on the island, Poros is actually two islands, Sferia and Kalavria. The island has about 4,000 inhabitants, most of them living in the town of Poros, which we briefly explored for about 40 minutes. Since we had limited time, we just walked around, looked in shops, took
pictures, etc. The first thing we had done was climb up to the clock tower, which dates back to the 1920s. It was a lovely, quiet, sweet town that I only had a brief taste of. I think I would like to return one day, and maybe spend a weekend. We reboarded the ship and spent a little more than an hour traveling to Hydra. During that time, we had lunch and unfortunately, it wasn’t traditional Greek food…I was bummed. But when we got to Hydra, I fell in love with the area. It felt larger than Poros but has a population of only 2,000 ish. The main port area is crescent shaped, and as one would expect, is filled with restaurants, cafes, and shops. We had a little more time here, but it was spent the same way: walking the streets and exploring the landscape. Hydra is an extremely rocky place, but it was awesome! When we got there, we walked along a path/street right on the ocean…and we were stunned at how beautiful the Aegean waters are…the colors are unlike anything you’ve ever seen before…blues, greens…for lack of a better term, it’s completely magical. We walked for about a half an hour and came to another townish area, and then ran into an English guy who showed us a path that would take us back to the port area but not on the sea. We followed his advice and walked through lovely paths in between beautiful white washed houses with the blue doors…all the typical Greek colors and architecture…through areas no tourists were (yay!) . My friend David ended up buying some things in the shops we went into but I decided to wait until we got back in Athens (aka tomorrow here I come!). Hydra was without a doubt my favorite of the three islands. Poros probably would have been second. They both felt more authentic than Aegina, our third island we visited. On our way there from Hydra, we sat with a life long learner named Pat and engaged in wonderful conversations. I love our vintage vagabonds…they have been absolutely everywhere and led such fascinating lives. They have traveled more than anyone I know…actually, our professors too, have traveled more than anyone I’ve met back in the states. It’s just awesome to be around people who have the same desires as you…who appreciate the diversity of culture, language, religion…simply fantastic. Around 4pm we got to Aegina, the largest of the three islands. In the past, Aegina used to rival Athens as THE place to be. According to Herodotus, Aeginaii was the first capital of modern Greece. Like many other Greek islands, Aegina has an extinct volcano which comprises most of the island. When we
first arrived, we saw a small church called Ai Nikolas, named for the patron saint of sailors. Very tiny church, more like a squared, 1 room building. One of the first things we did was stop for a snack at a place called Kanellas, and I had some kantaifi, which was very good. One thing I’ve repeatedly noticed in Greece. The majority of restaurants and cafes have areas to sit outside and the outdoor furniture is REALLY nice. Seriously…REALLY nice. Every single place! Very chic. So, we did the whole walk around thing, met some random people, more walking…finally found a beach area and went in to wade…it was the warmest water I have ever been in!!! I was so sad I didn’t have my bathing suit on…or else I would have gone in for
a dip! Instead my toes were just the happy parts of my body. If feet could smile, mine totally were. Seriously. I wish we had time to the Temple of Aphaea, or the Monastery of Agios Nectarios but honestly, we didn’t really know how to get to these landmarks, and were worried the boat leaving. On the other hand, it was nice to just walk around and take everything in. I’ve been puzzled lately about why I haven’t been doing as much “sightseeing” here in the Mediterranean compared to in northern Europe. I feel like I see a whole lot, but not many of the landmarks. At least that’s how I felt in Italy and Greece but I think I’ve figured it out. It is so DAMN HOT here! We are out baking in the sun the whole day…and we get dehydrated and very tired. I don’t have the energy to go out even if I wanted to! Really…it is so hot. 97 today in Athens. Weee. In Norway, Russia, Denmark….even Holland and Belgium, I always had a jacket with me. I never left without one. But here, it’s the complete opposite. And you know what’s funny? I’ve felt hotter here in Greece than I did in Egypt, and in Egypt, I was wearing much more clothing! So …that’s my explanation. Everything’s so much more chill here anyways.

Tommorrow, last day in Greece! I’ll get back on the metro and go to Athens…should be fun!

Athens Day Two

2008-08-04T13:22:00.006-04:00

August 4

I’m sorry my blogs have become a little less informative as of late…sometimes its so difficult to retain all the information we learn and more than that, to find the time to write everything down. I’ve decided to stay in once again tonight and get a good night’s rest. We have four channels on our television which play movies…usually they are movies for classes and the four films of the day play over and over again…toady one of the channels is playing the older version of The Diary of Anne Frank and after visiting the annex, I’ve been desperate to reread the book…so instead, tonight, I’ll enjoy the movie. Today we woke up for breakfast and spent another leisurely day in Athens. We once again got off at Monastiraki and our group decided to split off. Two of my friends, Ryan and Matt, came along with me to see the Agora. I think everyone reading this should check out Ryan’s version of Semester at Sea, at http://ryanleavy.blogspot.com. We tag along a lot on our trips so it might be interesting reading a different perspective!

Anyhow, the three of us walked the short distance to the Agora, where I went in without paying, again! Yesterday, at the top of the Acropolis, I saw the beautiful Thesion (Temple of Hephaistos and Athena) below and looked forward to visiting. Now, the Agora is an area that not only has the Thesion but also the Stoa of Attalos, a 2nd century building which was reconstructed in the mid 20th century. There is now a small museum on the bottom floor, which has various artifacts. The coolest piece had to be an old, Spartan shield…it was huge! I can’t imagine how heavy it must have been! Whenever I go to museums, I feel bad because I’ve attained a sort of nonchalance towards the various pieces…I’ve seen so many of the same things over and over and over again…everything is beautiful, naturally, and I’m happy to see it…but I don’t spend as much time perusing the museums as I would in the states. But then again, I don’t have as much time. There’s always something more to see. After seeing the Stoa of Attalos, we went back towards the Temple to have a closer look. The Thesion was constructed in the 5th century BC and is absolutely beautiful. From the top of the Acropolis, it looked like true sanctuary. In its time, the Agora was the commercial center of the city and the birthplace of democracy. According to the museum in the Stoa of Attalos, the Agora was the seat of administrative officials and the judiciary, home to a number of social and cultural activities, as well as the religious and cult center. The Panathenaic Way ran through the area, a road that connected the main gate of Athens to the Acropolis. Also was the West road where many important public buildings stood. Several other roads once existed and now the Agora is full of a mishmash of ruins. It was hard to picture how important this place used to be…how different it was then! And yet, if I stood still for a moment, the atmosphere changed from touristy to sacred, mysterious, and mystical. Something deeper existed in these ruins and the more I stayed, the more I felt the presence of the past alongside me. But alas, we had to meet up with some friends for a lunch so we continued on. For a little bit, the three of us wandered and found a beautiful church to sit near, underneath some shade. For about 20 minutes, we relaxed and listened to some music, just enjoying the breeze. After, we made our way back to meet the friends. Throughout the past two days, we walked several times through the Plaka, perhaps the most well known district of Athens. This seems to be where all the touristy action takes place, and is on the eastern side of the Acropolis. Since its thought of to be a historical district, few cars pass on the streets, which makes for a nice walk! The streets are lined with restaurants, shops, cafes, etc. We had lunch at a place called Savas and my souvlaki platter took me right to heaven! We had planned to go take the tram up Mount Lycabettus, a rather large hill in the northeast part of the city that supposedly has great views and also the Chapel of St. George. But, after lunch, we got caught up with shopping and after buying some delicate souvenirs, decided it would be best to take them back to the ship. That’s about it for today. Tomorrow I’m going on a SAS trip to the islands of Poros, Hydra, and Aegina. I’m so excited! Hopefully I’ll be able to update tomorrow!

ATHENS!

2008-08-04T11:23:00.006-04:00

August 3

After only one day at sea, we arrived in Piraeus, Greece! Piraeus is the port area right next to Athens and is only a short metro ride away. On Sunday morning, we had our usual diplomatic briefing before heading off the ship to where Greece awaited us! When we departed the ship, we wandered the streets to find the train station, and after a 20 minute walk, we found it. It took us about 3 minutes to get a ticket and then we were off to town! Let me just say the metro here is amazing. It’s without a doubt the easiest metro I’ve used in Europe and is even better than the T in Boston and the subway in New York. It was seven stops to Monastiraki station, where we planned to get off and shop in the flea markets. As we walked the streets, we saw tons of things we wanted…bags, jewelry, dresses, you name it! I restrained myself for the time being and the group I was with decided it was time for lunch. We enjoyed our meal at a restaurant called Tabepila, and they even gave us a free desert and 10% discount since we were in a group! The spanakopita was amazing…I was really impressed. Our next stop was the
National Archaeological Museum, or just the National Museum, which we took the metro to get to. This museum, according to the brochure, was actually built in the 19th century to house antiquities and is the largest archaeological museum in Greece. It was, in fact, very large and had Prehistoric, Sculpture, Egyptian, Vases, and Bronze collections which were all captivating. I particularly enjoyed the Sculpture collection…during this trip I’ve gained a newfound appreciation of sculpture in general…I think I’ve seen more of it than anything else. But the vases were beautiful, of course, and also a delight to see. I think if I had not just visited Egypt, the Egyptian collection would have been my favorite part…it really holds a significant amount of artifacts including jewelry, mummies, pottery, and statues, among other things. The museum in general was fantastic. Probably besides the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, it was the best well kept museum I’ve been to. Clean, accommodating, well staffed, air conditioning , (this is huge! The archaeological museum in Egypt did not have air conditioning and we all melted) etc. I suppose being in DC provided me with unrealistic expectations. OH! The best part of the museum was that since I was 19 and younger I got in for FREE!!! That’s right! And I’ll just go along and say that I also got into the Acropolis for free and the Agora! Rock on young age…I swear. My birthday is in three days though…we’ll be at sea sailing to Croatia…I’ll give myself the present of taking lots of naps. Okay, back to the first day. After the museum, we jumped back on the metro and got off at the Acropolis station to see the most well known historical space in Greece. For those who don’t know, the Acropolis is the hill that the Parthenon and the other ruins stands upon. After I happily passed the Beule Gate without paying, we first saw the temple of Athena Nike (Athena of Victory) which was built in 424 BC. Nearby is the Erechtheion, which was built for a king of Athens named Erechtheus and has the very pretty Caryatids, which are the carved figures that hold up the temple. We also saw the Theater of Dionysos and the Sanctuary of Asclepios. And of course there is the Parthenon, which is the highlight. The temple was dedicated to Athena, the patron goddess of Athens and apparently was only for priests and some special visitors. Over the past few years and undoubtedly continuing on into the future, there has been restoration projects going on so a lot of what you see is right next to construction. The views from the top of the Acropolis were wonderful! I now LOVE climbing up to higher peaks for a good view. As a visitor, it puts so much into perspective and to see the city as a whole is priceless. The trek up the hill was pretty tiring and it was SO hot. Thank god they had water fountains at the top because I would have become dehydrated otherwise. I haven’t been doing a good job of drinking enough water this trip (ahh mum don’t be mad!). I’m just grateful I didn’t get sick from the food in Egypt…a LOT of SASers including my roommates got sick…poor things. Anyway, after spending about an hour doing the Acropolis, we were all exhausted and very warm. We decided to go back to the metro and head back to Piraeus. The night was quiet (I know, I’m such a dork) but I was happy to relax. This trip has been likened to trying to drink water from a fire hose…I really can’t think of a better way to describe it. Four days ago I was in Egypt. In four days I’ll be in Croatia. It’s insane. So at the end of the day, going out is tempting but difficult for the mind and body (at least mine).

Thoughts on Egypt

2008-08-02T14:38:00.001-04:00

Egypt was the most fascinating place I’ve ever been. To be sure, I was mesmerized by everything around me. The burkas and veils, the desert, the men smoking, the people staring, everything. It was all I had anticipated, all I had envisioned. Here are some of my impressions, in no particular order:

1. Hookah: On every street, in every café, there were men smoking hookah. It was everywhere. Not twenty seconds passed without seeing a group of men sitting and smoking. In my whole time in Egypt, I didn’t see one woman with a hookah, but that wasn’t surprising. When I volunteered with the International Rescue Committee, I actually brought my hookah over to the apartment of the Iraqi refugees I was working with, and we had an amazing time just relaxing. But the women didn’t smoke, and it wasn’t a proper thing to do. One of the females said she would smoke with her father but that was it. In public it would never be acceptable (I hate that! Who determines that? The men!). Regardless, there were hookahs for sale and I even saw the shisha I had bought in the states. Even the exact flavor. We weren’t allowed to buy water pipes and bring them back on the ship…oh well.

2. Traffic: I know this is becoming redundant, but it’s so pervasive and so different than what we encounter in the states. If you continue reading my blog when I go to India (eleven days after I return from SAS!) I’ll definitely be comparing what I experienced in Egypt to the traffic in Bangalore. Anyhow, it was crazy. But I was surprised at how quickly I got used to it and I can say that it’s crazy, but if I were on the road right now in Alexandria, it wouldn’t be unsettling. Luckily I didn’t have to do much crossing of the street so I had a very different experience than in Naples, but in Italy, I hardly was in moving vehicles. So two different ways of experiencing the traffic and I can say that they were equally irksome. Although in Naples, I really did think I was going to get hit by a car time and time again. In Egypt, for some reason, I trusted the drivers. I trusted the honking. But, I wouldn’t advise an American ever to get behind the wheel in Egypt.

3. The Muslim Culture and Gender Relations: I have been no stranger to the veil. In the past year, I was always near people wearing a headscarf or veil, and honestly, it wasn’t that foreign to me. And even in Egypt, it didn’t feel completely different to me that 90% of women covered their hair. And of course it was, but I didn’t have powerful reactions to it. I would say about 20 % of the women wore the full burkas, only with their eyes shown. But everyone else wore headscarves. Well, almost everyone. My tour guide proudly stated to us “I am Muslim and I will never cover my hair!” She of course, was very “western” and her name actually translated to “revolutionary” in Turkish. Since the age of three, her mother had spoken to her in English. She was actually one of the only women I interacted with Egypt. I felt completely disconnected with most of the women, because my contact with them was minimal and my interactions with the men were so considerable. And the main difference that laid between us was our dress. In our logistical preport, we were advised to dress as modestly as possible so as to not attract more attention than we wanted (being told we are worth 100 camels, so on -which happened regardless) . Dressing modestly was difficult at times simply because of the heat! Undoubtedly the warmest place we’ve been thus far, wearing long skirts and shirts was not fun, to say the least. But still, we stuck out wherever we went and even though my legs and shoulders were always covered (and I always had a scarf on me) I felt peering eyes at me all the time. The women, from underneath their veils, seemed to be critiquing us with their at times unfriendly body language, whereas the men looked at us like we were meat. I’m completely serious. In Italy, if you remember, I remarked that I didn’t feel that the men were looking at us with crude thoughts running through their minds, but in Egypt, it was clear that they were. Simply because we had some skin showing, the men would make obscene gestures and facial expressions repetitively. But with the men I actually talked with, they were a lot more polite. Although some would try to kiss my cheeks and grab us a little too tight when we took pictures, I never felt that uncomfortable around them. Actually, I bonded with a lot of individuals. I would spend maybe 20 minutes talking with one or two Egyptian men about life in general and traveling. I encountered no anti American sentiments but I heard from others this was not the case for everyone. One of my roommates told me that she said she was from Canada and many Egyptians were satisfied that she wasn’t from the states. Some went as far as to say Americans were unwelcome there. But of course, they all hated American foreign policy and Bush especially. No surprise there.

4. Tipping/Money: Egypt is a culture where tipping is very important but it became a little extreme during our stay. Men wanted money all the time. Everywhere we went, if someone even said two sentences to you, they wanted money. In the Egyptian museum, we asked an employee where the exit was, and after showing it to us, he wanted a tip. At one of the pyramids, a guy started talking to me (telling me I looked Egyptian!) and after a few moments of conversation, he then asked me for money, “for his luck,” he said. He wanted me to give him 50 Egyptian pounds, or 10 USD! Seriously…it became ridiculous. And that’s quite sad, because it deterred me from speaking with more Egyptians, for fear of them asking me for money. They would be so nice until you left. And in the bazaar, as we walked, every man would shout out “you are beautiful!”, “I love your smile!”, or in one case, some guy said to me, “excuse me, I love you…” and I laughed and he replied “no, you don’t know what you’ve done to my heart…” Truly, I heard more compliments in the bazaar than ever before. But they just wanted us to come into their shops to buy something. In a way it was fun, dozens and dozens of people paying you attention, one after the other…it was an experience I had never had before. What was interesting is that they learn how to say these compliments in multiple languages, so Momoko was hearing the same phrases in Japanese (even though my girl momo chan is indeed beautiful and the guys probably sincerely believed everything they said).

Hmmm…that’s it for now. It’s almost 10 pm and I want to get a good nights rest before my first day in Greece tomorrow! The homeland! Finally! I’ve decided I’ll be spending the majority of the time in Athens, with a SAS trip to Poros, Hydra, and Aegina on the third day. I wish I could write more I think I need more time to digest everything.

Al Qahira-Cairo

2008-08-02T13:20:00.003-04:00

July 31

When we found out we were heading to Egypt, our field office scrambled to get together a field program for us and I must say, they did an amazing job. Since I hadn’t planned for Egypt, I thought it would be best to do an overnight trip through SAS. And it turned out to be the best tour of the entire summer! I am so grateful I was able to do it…I didn’t have to worry about anything, everything was already planned out and it was fantastic. There were almost 300 people who went on the trip…that says how popular it was! I woke up before seven and we were on the bus by 8 traveling to Cairo. There were about 12 buses, I was on bus 8 and we had an amazing tour guide, a woman named Nevian whose grandparents were Turkish. For the duration of the trip, she called us group “sunshine…” ……we would be in the middle of the street and she would yell “SUNSHINE! SHAKE A LEG!” It was fabulous. For the 2.5-3 hours it took to get to Sakkara, our first destination, Nevian taught us some Arabic and shared with us the history of her ancient culture. We took the desert road to Cairo, the most popular way to get to the city. Sakkara is home to the oldest ancient Egyptian cemetery, where the Step Pyramid of King Zoser stands. This is not one of the pyramids that most people know, but is roughly 5,000 years old! I couldn’t help but think this is where all the shows on the history channel are filmed! We were right in the middle of the desert and right before me stood the world’s first monumental stone building! Very close by are the Mastabas, which are tombs. From the outside, they look like a house but underneath they are much more than that. We couldn’t bring our cameras in, but there were beautiful hieroglyphics all along the walls depicting daily life in ancient Egypt. (some people took pictures…made me upset…why do people think the rules don’t apply to them?). Apparently Egyptians are still buried in mastabas today and follow the ancient Egyptian traditions, instead of the Islamic customs.

For lunch, we headed to a hotel called the Mena House Oberoi, which used to be a palace! The ballroom where we were served lunch had the most amazing décor and was easily one of the most beautiful rooms I’ve ever eaten in. Afterwards, we headed to the National Archaeology Museum in downtown Cairo, more commonly known as the Egyptian museum. The place was crowded with tourists and had no air conditioning, which made the visit a tad uncomfortable. Our tour guide took us through all the highlights but unfortunately, we weren’t able to go into the mummy room because it was extra. But we were able to see the treasures of King Tutankhamen, including his famous gold mask. There was a really great jewelry room, some of the pieces were so elaborate! We left after about an hour and a half of observing the artifacts and got on the buses to go to the Meridian Pyramids, a five star hotel where we would be staying, right across from the Pyramids. It took us at least an hour and a half to get there…the traffic in Cairo was just insane! It was bumper to bumper for the duration of the ride BUT it allowed us to wave to all the Egyptians in the cars beside us. Every single child would wave at us….the Egyptian children were adorable! I wanted to take them all home with me! It wasn’t just the children who would wave to us, almost every man would and some women. I didn’t mind the traffic…it was nice to exchange a smile here and there with strangers. The roads were so very busy but it was fun in a sense. Just watching everything, seeing so many people…all the noise, the animals, …anticipating what’s to come next, so much fun! When we finally arrived at the hotel, we found our rooms (very nice!) and had a wonderful buffet dinner. There was a marriage reception going on, where two brothers had married two sisters. The headscarfs and dresses were so beautiful, I couldn’t believe my eyes! I had never seen such elaborate and striking gowns. Luckily, I was able to find a Herald Tribune and our room had BBC and CNN so I definitely was able to get my news fill. Before we knew it, we were heading to the Giza Plateau around 8:45 to see the
sound and light show, “Son et Lumiere” in the English version. This was the closest I had gotten to the Sphinx and pyramids thus far and to see them illuminated in such colors as blue, red, and even green was an incredible sight to behold. PLEASE do yourself a favor and see this when you go to Egypt. It was a wonderful show sharing the rich history of Egypt against the backdrop of the most amazing monuments in the world. And the colors…goodness, so awesome!! We got back after 10 and I got to sleep around 11. We had an interruption at around midnight which was really unsettling (Momoko answered the door, supposedly they were a bunch of our tour guides checking the rooms and what not) so I didn’t sleep very well after that.

A few hours later, we woke up at 4am to get ready and check out of the hotel. And then, we traveled to the pyramids to see the sun rise! The pyramids don’t usually open until 8am to the public so we were the only ones there. It was a beautiful thing to watch and something I will treasure for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, it was somewhat cloudy so the skies weren’t as vibrantly colored as we had hoped. On the other hand, it made the whole atmosphere a little more eerie, which was appropriate. A couple hours later we got to ride camels! There had been another SAS tour offered, called the camel ride and jeep safari and participants on my overnight Cairo tour worried we wouldn’t be able to ride camels as well. Luckily, our tour guides organized it for us and it costed 10 dollars. We were so grateful our guides took care of it…we heard stories of paying men to get on camels and then not being able to get off the animal without paying even more money. Thankfully, we didn’t have to worry about that. When it was our turn, Momoko and I got on the camel and we almost fell off when it was standing up! My God, it was such a bumpy ride! And at first, very uncomfortable! But as we rode on towards the pyramids and realized once again where we were and what we were doing, the thought of comfort vanished. Here we were, in front of the great pyramids of Giza, in the middle of the desert, riding camels! It was unreal!!! I still cannot believe I actually did it…one of the most magical experiences in my life, without a doubt.

After riding the camels, we went closer to the pyramids to take some pictures before heading to see the Sphinx up close. Following that, we got back on the buses and drove through Cairo to the Khan El Khalili Bazaar, which was the most amazing, lively place in the city! The bazaar was a maze of
narrow alleyways, filled with a variety of merchandise and tinted with a myriad of colors and sounds. There were shops selling hookahs, jewelry, leather, spices, scarves and dresses, coffee and treats. It was a city in itself, an atmosphere that hypnotized the senses. It was the exotic middle east that has always been romanticized with Arabic slipping off the tongues of sellers, and the smell of shisha and spices lingering in the air. I will write more about my interactions with the people later. I ended up buying some souvenirs because everything was incredibly cheap and haggling is easy to do.

The majority of Muslims are Sunni in Egypt but there is a small Shiite population. Right next to the bazaar was the most important Shiite mosque in the city, named after the grandson of Mohammad. Right when we were leaving, one of their prayer times started…it was an amazing experience to be right outside the mosque as people were swarming the area and the call to prayer was resonating in the square. I was able to take some video footage which I hope to put up on the site sometime later.
When we were finished in the area, we went to our final activity in Cairo, which was a boat cruise along the Nile for lunch. It was a great way to end our tour, a time for relaxing, enjoying the food, and traveling along the most famous river in the world. Towards the end, we had a whirling dervish and belly dancer performance which was entertaining. After, we boarded the buses for the last time and took the 2 and a half hour trip back to Alexandria and the ship. Since we had been up since 4ish, everyone crashed on the way home (aka to the explorer). We got back around 530 but I didn’t get back on the ship until closer to 6ish…it takes a LONG time to get back on the ship because of the security measures we have in place. I slept until 11 this morning! But I’m still very tired…we had our Sea Olympics today…the ship is divided into seas, I’m in the yellow sea and I think we might have gotten third place? There were tug of war competitions, lip sync, synchronized swimming, among other activities. I didn’t sign up for any and I’m SO HAPPY because I don’t think I would have had the energy…right now is our cultural pre port for Greece but seeing as I’ve lived within the culture my whole life, I’m only watching it through the TV in our cabin. And I would like to continue sharing my thoughts on Egypt, now that I’ve written about my sightseeing.

When Someone Says Alexandria-Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmin

2008-08-02T07:14:00.003-04:00

Here's a poem about Alexandria written by the Russian author Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmin:

When someone says: "Alexandria,"
I see the white walls of a house,
a small garden row of gillyflowers,
an autumn evening's pale sunlight
and hear the music of distant flutes.

When someone says: "Alexandria,"
I see stars above the hushed city,
drunken sailors in dark quarters,
a dancing girl performing the "wasp,"
and hear tambourines and the noise of fights.

When someone says "Alexandria,"
I see a pale purple sunset above the green sea,
the flickering of furry stars
and the light grey eyes beneath thick brows
that I see even when
no one says: "Alexandria!"

The Pearl of the Mediterranean-Alexandria, Egypt

2008-08-01T15:01:00.003-04:00

Egypt…how can I begin to describe you? At the moment my mind aches from the noise, the sun, the bustle, and yet my heart is smiling. I am living in my travel dreams…and none of it seems real. This whole summer hasn’t felt real. I exist in a state of excitement and awe mingled with moments of disbelief and omnipresent exhaustion. I cannot believe I am here, and then my body reminds me. The visitor fatigue has outstayed his welcome…but if I push him out, so will go the others…all the wonder, all the chaos that is traveling. I am writing this at about 8:20 pm and I would be more than happy to fall asleep right now. But I have to pick up a souvenir in about an hour, perhaps smoke a hookah with some locals, or maybe drink some chai. When will I have the chance again?

Until then, I will describe my first day in Egypt, spent in the seaside city of Alexandria. Alexandria was of course, founded by Alexander the Great in322 BC and it was here that the famous Pharos Lighthouse once stood, one of the ancient seven wonders of the world. It is the second largest city in Egypt, with a population of about 8 million, which increases to 13 million during the summer months. Out of 22 ports in Egypt, Alexandria is the largest and is known as the “port of good wind.” When we disembarked the ship, we were naïve to think we could walk to most of the sightseeing locations. This would have been absolutely impossible. Even if they weren’t miles apart, I doubt we would have been able to navigate ourselves around the city. And of course, the traffic was insane (which we are beginning to feel as normal) but unlike the other cities, Alexandria had donkeys, horses, sheep, and goats in the road. I had read an article in the Times a couple of months ago about the noise in Cairo, i.e the incessant honking, etc. One of the things we immediately noticed was that EVERYONE honked ALL the time…our taxi driver would honk for no reason it seemed like…but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Like I said, when we got off the ship, we really didn’t have a good idea of how the city was laid out. Honestly, after a full day of sightseeing, I still don’t have a good idea. Usually in every port, there are tons of taxis lined up with drivers asking us where we need to go, what we want to do…most of the time we walk on right past them. But one individual, a short man probably in his 70s, wouldn’t stop talking to us. We finally asked if he would take six of us to the catacombs, and that would be it. What we originally wanted was just one drive. Instead, we ended up staying with him the entire day. He took us EVERYWHERE in Alexandria, for only $20 each person (we all tipped him pretty generously). Immediately, our entertainment began. Just being a passenger in the traffic is a completely different experience in itself. And there weren’t really seatbelts, so good thing we never did get in that accident…which almost occurred 10 times. Before I traveled to Naples and Alexandria, I really couldn’t fathom how bad the traffic was. I had no idea. So let me explain to those who think that driving in NYC or LA is difficult. There are lines here but NO one follows them. It really is a free for all. You know how when we pass toll stations and there is that 2 second period where everyone is trying to get into the lanes before there are any? Okay, that’s what its like all the time. At one point, a car from the opposite direction was coming straight at us…and then another car from our direct left…not to mention the speeding cars to the right of us…really, it’s amazing there aren’t a million accidents…so add a couple donkey’s pulling carts, pedestrians walking through the streets with tons of children, the sound of a honk never leaving your ear, and you’ve got Alexandria. Cairo, I’ve heard, is ten times worse. So we’ll see. And yet, I never felt unsafe. Funny, isn’t it? I think it’s because we were all used to Naples, and St. Petersburg before that. But goodness, if someone put me in that same taxi two months ago, I would have fainted. Instead, I just enjoyed the ocean breeze. Goodness, how I’ve already changed.
Our first stop was the Catacombs of Kom esh-Shawqafa, which took us about 15 minutes to get to. When we got there, we found the entrance to the circular staircase which took us down to the 2nd century CE catacombs, which have three levels (the lowest inaccessible). They were the coolest things ever. Photography was prohibited which was unfortunate…I would have loved to take pictures!!! We felt like we were in the movie Tomb Raiders…there were so many compartments and place where bodies rested…the main part had the central tomb with bearded serpents on the wall…it was just very eerie and totally the Egypt I imagined that is always romanticized in movies. We just wandered around the rooms…it was like a small maze…some of the tombs were filled with water…interesting. We were there for about 20 minutes…it isn’t that large and since we were on our own with no guide, staying longer wasn’t necessary.
When we got back our trusty taxi driver was sitting across the street in a café, having some chai and sitting with a man smoking (hookah, naturally). The six of us went over and hung out with them for a little bit, before continuing on to our next location, Pompey’s Pillar. Considered the largest ancient monument in the city, Pompey’s Pillar is like a mini Washington monument…but a million times cooler because it also has two sphinx statues and an underground library beneath it! Apparently it mistakenly named by Crusaders…there was no connection to Pompey (the Roman). Instead it was a part of the ancient Temple of Serapis and constructed to honor Diocletian, the Emperor. At first, I felt a little apprehensive of going there. After all, it’s just a pillar. But it felt so much more than that when we were there.

(rest of this written Aug1)
I know this may sound silly, but the spot made felt genuinely Egyptian…the thought of sand comes to mind, of a sphinx, and it was there along with the pillar. It was very cheap to get in, maybe about two or three dollars (10-15 Egyptian pounds). When we were finished, we got back in the taxi and passed the Roman Amphitheater, in the area of Kom Al-Dekka. It was really interesting….this Roman relic stuck right in the middle of everything else…it almost looked out of place. We continued driving and went through some really fascinating parts of the city…we went on this one street where they sold live animals…chickens, pigeons, rabbits…we actually saw a rabbit being skinned, it was traumatizing. There were goats and donkeys everywhere, even sheep from time to time. Our next stop was the New Alexandria Library in the Shatby districted, which was opened in 2002. It was about 2 dollars to get in, and we spent maybe twenty minutes inside. The architecture was very modern and it was fun to see but not much else to see but books and computers. However, that doesn’t stop the place from being mobbed with tourists. Our handy driver was on the scene ready to take us to our next location when we were done. At one point, he stopped on the side of the street, told us to hold on, and got out of the car. At first we were a tad perplexed and actually thought the situation a little sketchy but in five minutes, he came out with six bottled waters for us! It was the nicest thing ever…seriously. We then headed to the Montazah Palaces and gardens which were absolutely beautiful! It took us at least twenty minutes to get there but the road we took was right on the sea and the beaches were mobbed! Everyone in Alexandria seemed to be at the beach! And the waves were rough! On the other side of the road there were so many shops and restaurants, I even spotted a Starbucks and yes, a Chilis. Of course, most of the places were not American. But fun seeing, nonetheless.

Soon enough we were driving in the Montazah gardens, which are somewhat of a resort area for the Egyptians. What a contrast it was to go from the streets of Alexandria to these gardens…it seemed impossible that they were right next to each other! The Montazah gardens included the Shallalat gardens, Nozha gardens, and Antoniadis gardens. The Palace is now one of the President’s houses and is located right by the side of sea but during the summer, it’s vacated. We were able to drive right up to the gate and take a couple pictures. By this time, our stomachs were beginning to grumble but we decided to wait until we got back on the boat for lunch at our pool deck. We still had a couple more places to see. As we were driving, we passed the Unknown Soldier monument, close to Tahrir Square. We stopped at Qaitbey Fort which is where the old Alexandrian lighthouse once stood. The fort is rather large and houses the Naval Museum as well as a mosque. Perhaps the most exciting places to see came last. We came to an area where four mosques stood, the most prominent being the Mosque of Morsi Abu El-Abbas, which is the largest mosque in the city and also holds the tomb of Abu el-Abbas himself. It was an incredible site…a perfect example of Islamic architecture with the domes and minarets. We went in for a couple of minutes (men and women are always separated and shoes taken off!) which I’ll write more about later. But this was without a doubt, the most beautiful mosque I’ve ever seen. If you’re ever in Alexandria, make this your first stop. You won’t be disappointed.

We headed back to the ship a little later, bid farewell to our driver, and went directly to buy food on the 7th deck and take a quick dip in the pool. Afterwards, we headed back out to do some shopping in the vendors right near our ship. My friend (and bodyguard! ) Ryan and I immediately became friends with several of the Egyptian men working in the shops…they even let me try the shisha they were smoking and offered tea and coffee. I wasn’t planning on getting anything…at that point, I just wanted to see what was there. We stayed longer at the second shop and ordered some necklaces with our names in hieroglyphics. We also tried on some dresses just for fun (yes, tons of guys bought dresses and wore them) but I ended up getting mine for free!! I tried on three different ones and the last one was particularly nice…but I wasn’t sure I would ever wear it enough…he was offering me good prices but I was still hesitant…and then, he gave it to me for free. I couldn’t believe it. At first I thought I misunderstood him but I hadn’t…he was just giving this to me for nothing at all. I felt so bad!! We told him we would come back in a couple of hours to pick up the necklaces and sure enough, we went back out later and shared tea and coffee with our new friend Nasser Mohamed Mahmoud. Another friend came along as well so the four of us just sat and talked for at least an hour (and I went away with a headdress and scarf for free too!!!). It was great just relaxing and learning from one another…sharing each other’s cultures, ideas, opinions about the world…there is nothing like that exchange…and underneath the night sky of Alexandria, it couldn’t have been better.

So my first day in Egypt was absolutely incredible! I just got back from spending the past two days in Cairo and all I can say is, they were amazing. I am, unsurprisingly, exhausted. We woke up this morning at 4 am to catch the sunrise over the pyramids, so I’m about to crash (its almost 10). Tomorrow is “Greek day” slash sea Olympics = NO CLASSES! Which is a huge relief because I don’t think I could wake up at 8 anyways. BUT tomorrow I’m determined to write all about my experiences, so check updates tomorrow!

WE'RE GOING TO EGYPT!!!!!

2008-07-28T14:47:00.002-04:00

This is from the SAS website:

SUMMER 2008: MV EXPLORER TO CALL ON ALEXANDRIA, EGYPT INSTEAD OF ISTANBUL, TURKEY
Monday, July 28 1:30 p.m. (eastern) Following extensive consultation today with officials at the U.S. Embassy in Istanbul, the Overseas Advisory Council, ASI Group (our global risk management service), V-Ships (our ship�s management service), and the onboard senior leadership team (Captain Jeremy Kingston and Executive Dean Jill Wright), and consistent with the Semester at Sea commitment to the health and safety of our participants, the Institute for Shipboard Education senior management team in Charlottesville, Virginia has decided that the Summer 2008 voyage will not call on Istanbul, Turkey. The MV Explorer will now call on Alexandria, Egypt (pending confirmation of a berth). Anticipated arrival to Alexandria is Wednesday, July 30 at 0800. A field program is being developed and will be made available tomorrow for participants to consider. Please continue to check this site for further information as it becomes available.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WE'RE GOING TO EGYPT!!!!! SO EXCITED!!!

TURKEY

2008-07-28T11:59:00.004-04:00

So, just as I was putting up the last blog, our Executive Dean Jill Wright made the announcement that We ARE NOT GOING TO TURKEY. We don't know where the ship is being re routed to...I'll find out soon.

More Thoughts on Italia

2008-07-28T11:43:00.001-04:00

At the moment, my mind is wrapped around whether or not we will go to Turkey. In about an hour, we're due to find out. But I must write more about my experiences in Italy, before I forget the details.

First of all, Italy felt like the beginning of an entirely different trip. Perhaps the weather had a strong influence, or maybe it was my monster of a cold that affected my state of mind, but Italy was completely separate from the Europe we've encountered this past month. Of course, anyone can guess that would be the case. And honestly, I felt much more at home. The Mediterranean lifestyle is one very familiar to me, and although Italy is not Greece, Naples and the Amalfi coast felt like a next door neighbor. Much more recognizable to me than say, the countries of Scandinavia. The spirit of the people and the liveliness of the city was refreshing and vitalizing. Naples itself was a city with a distinct personality, one very different from those we’ve already visited. If I could compare it to one, it would be St. Petersburg. But that really is more a result of the same high levels of crime. Crime was a big issue for us SASers and many were victims of pickpockets. I took the fewest amount of pictures in Naples because we were advised to not show our cameras. It was quite a disappointment not to photograph the streets! It is true that they weren’t well maintained and dirty, but they were intriguing nonetheless. Neapolitans seemed proud of their city, despite its numerous problems. It was an extremely busy place, and walking around felt like a whirlwind. I’ve already mentioned the traffic but let me just reiterate how much it affected our stay. Between the crime rates and the traffic, my sightseeing in Naples was quite limited. Not to mention the incessant attention from males…that is a whole other story. But despite all of this, I wanted to know Naples, to see as much as possible. I only wish I could have met more locals to show me around. But on my own, and even with SASers, I felt restricted. It was not like Russia where we felt unwelcome…quite the contrary, the Italians embraced our presence. But there were too many distractions that prevented us from truly enjoying the city. Without a doubt, it is a place I would love to return to, to see all the things I couldn’t. So, my lasting impressions of Naples, many of which I already wrote about include:
1. The intensity of the traffic
2. Crime
3. Vespas:
What an interesting change it was to go from countries where the bike is ubiquitous to an area where the vespa dominated the scene. I don’t think I saw one person riding a bike during my stay in Italy, and honestly, I would be terrified to in Napoli. But I would see as many as three people on one vespa! Even children sitting in front of their parents!
4. Trash:
Yes, there is still trash everywhere in Naples. Rubbish all over the streets. Some places seemed better than others, but for the most part, the city was pretty dirty.
5. Gender relations:
On the streets of Naples, I had the most interesting experiences as a female than in any other port we’ve visited. It was here that I received more attention from men than I probably have in my life. Never before had I felt so watched as if I were an old relic on display in a museum. Men of all ages would stop and spend two minutes of their life watching me pass. One would think there are more important things to do than watch females cross streets, but in Italy, this appeared to be a common pastime for males. And yet, only part of the time I felt violated, in a sense. Even that is much too strong a word. The majority of the time I would even smile back at the men and say “ciao” in return. It was the first time ever that I actually waved to a car that beeped at me. In the States, I am always slightly annoyed at car honks or even prolonged stares but here, I did not feel uncomfortable. In the other countries, I had similar feelings of resentment (like, why are you looking at me? Stop!). But in Italy, I only had a few moments with these reactions. But why? What was it that made me react differently here in Italy, with the absolute most attention than in other places? Could it have been because it was so ubiquitous that I had gotten used to it? Perhaps. Maybe more so, it was due to the lively, easy going, generally upbeat atmosphere that exists in southern Italy. I never felt threatened in any case, but maybe it was because as an outsider, I felt a little safer…which shouldn’t make any sense but I almost had a protective shield around me…knowing that I would never see these men again and that I wouldn’t pass their way twice. There was also a much greater familiarity with the female body. All throughout my travels in Italy, not simply in Naples, there was a preoccupation with the erotic, even in the small towns. Pictures of bare breasted women would be on the walls of a shop selling gelato. There were porn movies adjacent to stalls selling newspapers. As a woman, I did not feel any sense of shame or embarrassment…it was quite the contrary…because this seemed more like an appreciation of the female body, maybe even a celebration. And it was a rejuvenating change. Because I did not feel that behind all the attention I received, there were crude, vulgar thoughts running around in the minds of the men, which was relieving.

However, this was not the case all of the time, and it must be noted. On the last day, I walked alone in the morning throughout Naples to do some last minute sightseeing, and I was wearing a rather short dress that seemed to attract a lot of attention. Honestly, I felt like a prostitute. It was early morning, and there were not many women around, which made it all the more worse. Almost every person I passed was an older male who would stop what they were doing to watch me walk past them. Being alone, I never talked to any men except when I was purchasing something and made it a point to wear my sunglasses…I don’t know, there’s something about keeping my eyes hidden that always makes me feel better. In that morning, there is no question I felt extremely uncomfortable. There was even a moment where an Italian woman walking towards me said something to me, that appeared to be negative and directed towards my choice of dress…so I leave Italy with two completely different experiences.

Turkey???

2008-07-28T01:37:00.004-04:00

We recieved word this morning that there was a terrorist attack in a neighborhood in Istanbul, killing 15 people and wounding many more. At this moment we are unsure of whether or not we're still going to Turkey...if you remember earlier this month there was an attack at the consulate but this is much worse...I've copied and pasted an article from the NY Times for you all to read...we won't know what happens for awhile...but its quite possible that we will change course...

Bombs Kill 15 in a Crowded Istanbul Neighborhood
By SEBNEM ARSU
Published: July 28, 2008
ISTANBUL — Two bombs exploded within minutes of each other late Sunday in a crowded pedestrian area of Istanbul, killing at least 16 people and wounding more than 150 in what the city’s governor called a terrorist attack.
The double bombing appeared to be the worst case of terrorist violence in Turkey in nearly five years and seemed to take the Turkish authorities by surprise. There were no immediate claims of responsibility, although Kurdish separatist militants were initially suspected.
Residents in buildings near the explosion sites hung Turkish flags from their windows and balconies in reaction to rumors that the separatists were responsible.
There was no obvious reason the Istanbul neighborhood that was bombed, which is almost completely residential, had been the object of a terrorism plot.
The first blast, which the police and witnesses said was relatively minor, attracted scores of onlookers curious about the commotion, with at least some of them thinking it was caused by a gas leak explosion. Many of the onlookers were then hit by flying shrapnel and debris in the second, more powerful blast about 10 minutes after the first and about 20 yards away, the governor of Istanbul, Muammer Guler, said in a news briefing broadcast by Turkish television.
Witnesses described a scene of panic with victims lying on the street in pools of blood. The bombings seemed timed to exploit the summer pastime of many residents of the pedestrian area of Gungoren, in central Istanbul, to stroll in the cool late evening before going to bed.
“It’s surely a terror attack, there’s no doubt,” Governor Guler said. “Because people were gathered after the first explosion, and because the second explosion happened right after, people sitting right across got severely injured.”
Senol Simsek, a witness who provided first aid to the wounded, told the NTV television network that he had seen at least five people lying and writhing near a telephone booth that was destroyed. The police quickly sealed off the entire area and closed it to all traffic.
Hayati Yazici, deputy prime minister who happened to be visiting Istanbul on Sunday, visited the bombing site and told the Anatolian News Agency: “It is obvious that this is the work of a villain organization, a person or people, however it is not certain as to who this is. Our friends are investigating, it will be discovered for sure.”
The double bombing appeared to be the most serious terrorist attack here since twin truck bombings at two Istanbul synagogues killed 23 people and wounded more than 300 on Nov. 15, 2003. An obscure group linked to Al Qaeda took responsibility for the synagogue blasts, which were the worst in a series of explosions blamed on Islamic extremist groups that year that killed more than 60 people.
President Abdullah Gul, in a written statement, denounced the attack here Sunday and said Turkey remained committed in what he called the struggle against terrorism. “Nothing can be achieved by terror, violently claiming lives of the innocent,” Mr. Gul said. “These attacks show the inhumanity and misery of the assailants.”
Officials were continuing investigations and analysis at both explosion sites to determine the precise cause and motives behind the attack, Turkish news organizations reported.
There was initial speculation that the bombings might have been the work of the P.K.K., or Kurdistan Workers’ Party, an insurgent group that has been fighting the Turkish Army for autonomy in the southeast area of the country adjoining Iraq.
Earlier Sunday, the Turkish military announced that its fighter jets had attacked 12 Kurdish separatist targets in Iraq’s Qandil region and that it had inflicted an unspecified number of “terrorist casualties.”
Lynsey Addario contributed reporting.

Capri and Naples

2008-07-26T15:29:00.005-04:00

I’ve known about the Island of Love for quite some time (shoutout to Pao who bought me a lovely cross from Capri!!) and have always been eager to visit. The first two days in Italy all I heard back on the ship were wonderful remarks about Capri, so I was more excited than ever. We purchased tickets around 7:45 and got on the boat at 8:10. It took a little less than an hour to arrive at Marina Grande. Upon finding out the Blue Grotto was currently closed, we decided to get on a bus to Anacapri, the smaller town on the island. Once again, twists and turns up a mountain to Anacapri. At every turn, bus drivers have to honk because they can’t tell if cars are coming down and there is only room for one car one direction. It’s a little intense. We were dropped off at Piazza Vittoria, from where I grabbed a Herald Tribune (my LIFESAVER..oh to read newspapers again). The first thing we did was hit the Seggiovia del Monte Solaro, the 12 minute chairlift up Monte Solaro, Capri’s highest point of
July 251,932 ft. Wow…going up was the most tranquil 12 minutes of my life (well, perhaps a certain sunday morning). I had never done anything like this (besides like a charlift at kennywood, lol). Charlifts are now at the top of my list of favorite things to do. To my right was the Mediterranean Sea and we were able to see amazing views of Capri and the Bay of Naples in general. My barefeet hung loose over lemon groves beneath me…the landscape was massaging my eyes…and then when we got to the top, it was probably the best view of this entire trip. There is something about mountains that invigorate me and seeing the bright blue sea below made it all the more perfect. This was the Italy I came for.

Once we had taken the chairlift down, we found a place called Sciue Sciue to get a quick lunch. After, our main priority was seeing the Blue Grotto. The Grotta Azzurra is a famous cave that has a distinct blue glow to the water and is the most popular tourist destination in Capri. From Anacapri, we took a bus to the Grotto and waited in line for about twenty five minutes. Then, we got on a small rowboat that only fit five of us (including the guy who rowed us in) and went in line with the other dozen rowboats to pay the admission fee. Then we waited for about five minutes in the boat for other rowboats to come out of the cave. It’s really funny to watch people because in order to get into the cave, people have to awkwardly lie all the way down in the rowboat because there is such a small opening (1.3m high). Once we were inside, I was like, “where is the blue???” Everything seemed dark, I could barely see anything. But then I turned my head back to the right and towards where we had entered, and the water was the most beautiful blue color I have ever seen in my life (when I get internet access, I’ll put up a video…I was taking a video when we had just gotten in so my first view will be yours as well :) ). The men who row the boats are called “singing captains” because they sing while in the cave. We were in there for all but two minutes and honestly…I don’t know if its worth it (costs like 18 euros overall). There are other grottos on the island of Capri, and when we first got to the Marina Grande, there was an Italian man offering to take us to four other grottos and a tour around the island for 25 euros. The three other people with me wanted only to go to the Blue Grotto, but I really wanted to go on this other tour…we would have been able to swim in the grottos, ah…oh well.

After seeing the grotto, we got on a bus back to Anacapri and then waited about ½ hour for another bus to get to Capri town. Then, we took the funicular down to the Marina Grande and got our ticket back to Naples. Afterwards, we went to the beach right next to the Marina and ran into the sea…felt so refreshing. We were only in for about 15 minutes but it was so worth it…and free!

We got back to Naples around 430ish and once again, took a mini siesta. I later went out with some other friends to have dinner and we found this place that had been recommended to us, called Osteria Pizzeria? Naturally, I ordered a Margherita pizza which was very good and we enjoyed a local wine called Falanghina Beneventano. Later, we went to get gelato at Caffe Gambrinus, perhaps the most well known café in the city. It’s right near the Piazza Trieste e Trento and Oscar Wilde was known to hang out here. Mussolini even shut down rooms there because left wing intellectuals met there. The gelato was alright but what we really loved were these frozen lemons filled with lemon sorbet. So delicious!! After relaxing for awhile, we headed back to the ship.

July 26

Today I awoke up early enough for breakfast and headed out to the Museo Archeologico Nazionale, which took me about twenty to twenty five minutes to walk to. Luckily, it was a pretty direct route, straight up Via Toledo. I had been hearing that this was the best archaeological museum in Europe and that the artifacts found in Pompeii and Herculaneum were all there. It’s a large, pink and green building…definitely an interesting choice of colors. Anyhow, I was actually really happy to get inside…my walk wasn’t as pleasant as I hoped…I’ll write more about that later…but the museum was a little disorganized I felt…perhaps it was the time I went (early in the morning) but it seemed understaffed as well. However, it was nice seeing the variety of artifacts, including paintings, sculptures, and mosaics. The classic Fighting the Persians mosaic was there, as well as some really interesting sculptures, including Farnese Bull, which is the largest sculpture survived from the classic period. The best part was seeing models of the town of Pompeii…so cool to see everything laid out. After the museum, I spent the next hour or so walking around parts of Naples…exploring what I hadn’t seen, getting the Herald Tribune, buying a phone card and getting very excited about making phone calls only to find out it didn’t work at the phones near the ship…sigh…

I went back to the ship a little early and took a swim in our pool and took it easy. I’m still sick so I didn’t want to push myself, even on the last day. I should be writing field reports and we have another important paper due in Global studies in two days….ah….work. And only two days until Istanbul…unbelievable. I’m so happy we’re here in the Mediterranean and the weather has been such an improvement!

It’s about 9:30 right now and I’m about to do some other writing and then go to bed. I have a lot of work for classes and I should get as much sleep as possible. I'll try to write tommorrow more about my impressions. Ciao!

Amalfi

2008-07-26T10:37:00.002-04:00

July 24

My alarm always arrives too quickly. On Thursday, I awoke around 650ish and met Momoko for breakfast at 7:10, extremely sick but ready to go to Amalfi, a small town on the famous Amalfi coast. We had planned to go with two lifelong learners, Sue and Jim. One of the wonderful features of Semester at Sea is the diversity of ages on the ship. We have lots of little kids, even some babies on the ship who are children of the staff and faculty. They did the most adorable dance performance at our last talent show, to the song “Under the Sea” from the Little Mermaid. The poor things were just standing and dancing…too cute for
words. Anyhow, we also have Lifelong Learners, who are mostly comprised of senior citizens who have joined us on our voyage. They come to our classes and I try to bond with them as much as possible. Many have been on SAS trips before and almost all are extremely well traveled. It’s wonderful. There’s a program that brings students and Vintage Vagabonds (what they’ve remained themselves) even closer, where a student has “grandparents” and a SAS “family.” Momoko, my dear friend from Japan, is in this program and Sue and Jim are her “grandparents.” Together, we all decided to travel to Amalfi and it was awesome to change it up a bit and sightsee with the older folks. At 7:40 we met at the gangway and headed for the port to get tickets.

At 8:25, we boarded the “Metro del Mare” boat and it took two hours to finally arrive in Amalfi. Yet, it didn’t feel like that much time had passed. We did make three stops before our final destination, including the incredibly charming town of Positano, which is situated on cliffs. If there is one place I would wish to return to, Positano would be it. I regret not going there…it looked so beautiful!

But, I was just as happy seeing Amalfi. Once upon a time, Amalfi was a bustling place with a population of 70,000 residents. Unfortunately, in in the mid 14th century, an earthquake devastated the area, and now, Amalfi has only about 5,000 people. The boat dropped us off at Piazza Flavio Grande and the first thing I noticed was the large beach, Spiaggia Grande, to my right. The whole thing was covered with umbrellas and chairs. We headed to the main part of town, the Piazza del Duomo. We decided to split up for about 45 minutes so I took the opportunity to explore the main street, Via Lorenzo d’Amalfi, which was narrow but filled with restaurants, hotels, and shops. I stopped in only a few, and instead spent most of the time taking picture of the architecture. When the four of us met up again, we decided to have lunch at a place right in the Piazza del Duomo. Pizza was the obvious choice. I also ordered hot chocolate, to which the Italian waitress told me I was crazy to have such a combination. The pizza there was the absolute best I had in Italy. Just fantastic. After lunch, Momoko and I went to the main sight, the Cattedrale di Sant’Andrea. It is the dominating structure in Piazza del Duomo, which a huge flight of stairs leading to the Sicilian Arabic-Norman style structure. It was originally built in the 10th century and has three main parts, the cloister, the crypt, and the cathedral. Without a doubt, the crypt was the most beautiful part…it’s odd, it felt like the most sacred space I have been in!

After exploring the cathedral, we hit the beach! For 5 euros, we got into a private beach with our own lawn chair and umbrella, and interestingly enough, we found Jim and Sue there as well. The sea was amazing. Probably my best swim ever. The past few days were very warm so a swim was absolutely necessary! But the view from the sea back to the town of Amalfi was lovely. It felt like a dream world.

The water was the perfect temperature and after swimming we did some sunbathing.
Around 345, we caught the bus going back to Naples. For the first hour we continued traveling south, which struck us as odd, despite the amazing views of the sea. Sue and Jim thought we might have gotten on the wrong bus but I was sure we were going to turn around soon, which we did. At times the bus got quite crowded…there was even a dog that came on! But once we got on the highway and headed north there were fewer people and I did some daydreaming…
When we got back to Naples, we had dinner and then Momoko and I went in search of wi-fi. The McDonalds had weak signals (I didn’t get anything at all) so we tried to get wireless in a hotel but then were directed up Via Toledo. We came to a small piazza where throngs of teenagers seemed to be hanging out. “Parle inglese?” I asked a random couple, who were both about 16. They had the normal response, which was saying a little. Together we struggled to understand each other…we were looking for internet point…wi fi? When they realized what we wanted, the couple as well as several of their friends all motioned that they would show us…and so off we went! Suddenly there were about seven young Italians all around us, cheerfully (and very loudly) speaking in Italian about this and that…enthusiastic, they were! And so nice…even though we didn’t communicate much, there were times we clearly understood each other…so much smiling…it was wonderful! They took us down alleyways and walked through the streets like it was a playground (which was impossible for me to do with the traffic but what I expected a local to do) and it all felt like a maze…I had no idea where we were going but I trusted them. The first place we went to was closed so instead of leaving us there, they took us to another place! It was near Piazza Dante and also, unfortunately, closed. As we were talking and I was trying to ask how to get back to the port, there was a lot of confusion. An Italian at a restaurant right next to us came out to try to help, and then another Italian who spoke some better English came out to help more. Everyone was so nice, so willing to help! Mmm, life is beautiful.

We got back to the ship with no trouble and I went to sleep right away!

ITALIA!

2008-07-26T09:45:00.002-04:00

Later tonight, we will leave Italy. Most of the past four days were spent coughing, sneezing, and fighting to speak with a broken voice. Despite it all, I smiled more than in any other port. This was the part of the voyage I waited for, where I could enjoy the warmth of the sun and the glow of the Mediterranean. After four days in the heat, I’ve gotten quite tan! And slowly, I’ve been recovering. Honestly, I think the scenery has healed me. On the first day, the majority of students on the MV Explorer left for Rome but I cannot tell you how happy I was to have stayed in the south. Naples and the Amalfi Coast had more than enough to offer and I could not imagine having a different week here. In the future, I will hit the more “popular” cities in Italy but I am so grateful to have spent my first visit in this area.

July 23

On the first day I had a SAS trip to Pompeii (the Italians actually spell it with one i, so pompei) and the town of Sorrento. It was an early start so fortunately, we were one of the first groups to get off the ship (if you can imagine, 600 students wanting to get off the ship at the same time, plus the faculty, life long learners…). We left right after the diplomatic briefing, around nine. Outside of the port, two buses were waiting for our trip and I jumped on number two, where the most wonderful tour guide waited, named Roberto (of course I did not know this when I was getting on the bus). As we made our way to Pompeii, about 25 kilometers, I was able to see my first views of Napoli. Naples is Italy’s third largest city, and has been in the news a lot this past year due to the trash/rubbish problems. I read many articles this past spring particularly about the crisis and I was eager to see the streets. Later on, when I actually walked through Naples, I did see trash almost everywhere on the streets, some places better than others obviously but the problem definitely still exists…

Honestly, my first impressions of Naples were not the best, because we passed many of the city’s slum areas. Everything seemed so cluttered and dirty, and yet there was a certain charm to all of it. Perhaps it was the variety of house colors and the laundry draping on balconies, or maybe just the excitement of being in Italy…I was enamored.

I had heard a lot about the traffic in the Naples area being absolutely horrible, and indeed, it took quite awhile to get to Pompeii. Luckily we were leaving the city and not going into Naples…there seemed to be a motorcycle crash on the other side of the highway…I saw a man lying on the ground right in the middle of the road…and then cars backed up for miles. There is major traffic in the morning, when everyone is going to work, but then when people leave for the siesta in the afternoon and also return, and then later in the evening after work. It’s a very busy area to be sure.

Anyway, we got to Pompeii a little after 10 and spent about two hours wandering the ruins. It was fabulous. Before visiting, I really didn’t comprehend what an extensive complex the ruins are…I imagined a little area with some columns…perhaps more than that, but I was not prepared for how large it was! If I were on my own, I would have spent hours wandering the streets, the houses, the small shops…and I’m sure I would have gotten lost. Since we had a short visit, we only hit some of the highlights…seeing the Tempio de Venere, the basillica, the Tempio di Apollo, the Lupanare (the brothel), among other things. For those who are not familiar with the story, Pompeii was completely covered in ash when Mt. Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD. It wasn’t until the late 16th century that the ruins were discovered and excavations still continue today. The volcano is still active and Mt. Vesuvius last erupted in 1944...I had a kick out of someone writing on our graffiti board on the ship “Don’t live in the Red Zone…Vesuvius will get you!” Supposedly this is one of the longest periods of inactivity and it will be interesting to see what happens in the future…scary to think 700,000 people live right under the mountain.

Pompeii was fantastic and such a surprise. I should have had a better understanding of the site having taken archaeology classes but honestly, I had no idea it was so large. I would love to go back on my own and simply meander…focus more on the feel of the place rather than all the distractions that come along with tour groups. I was very surprised when we finished and it was a couple of hours later…the time must have flown! After seeing the ruins, we went into a hotel nearby to try limoncello and some chocolate. Limoncello is a liqueur made of lemon peel, alcohol, sugar, and water and it was a lot stronger than I anticipated. Truthfully, it was a little painful to even finish my free tasting.

When we continued on to Sorrento, we saw limoncello being sold everywhere. Sorrento is a small town of about 25,000 people but is a popular destination for tourists. The ride from Pompeii to Sorrento took about an hour and was quite the drive. This summer I have gained a newfound respect for bus drivers all over the world. Really. The roads they have to work with are so much narrower and the fact that they deliver us safely from point A to point B is a miracle. The road we took from Pompeii to Sorrento swerved from left to right on a cliff overlooking the Bay of Naples. It constantly provided us with breathtaking views but the twists and turns right next to the edge took our breath away out of fear…our good natured tour guide, Roberto, who I bonded with during Pompeii (I adore 75 year old men) joyfully exclaimed, “don’t you feel like being on a rollercoaster or helicopter?” Ha, YES.

The first thing we did in Sorrento was have lunch. SAS always hooks us up with the best restaurants. The one we went to was called La Basilica and was on a side alleyway off Piazza Tasso, the main square. It was a fantastic, three course meal served with a local wine, called Solaro. After lunch, we were given time to explore the area. I spent the majority of the time walking on streets observing and taking everything in…to me, there didn’t seem like much to do in Sorrento but it would have been a nice place to go and relax. The restaurants all looked fabulous and there were several upscale stores for shopping. But all very touristy. I wish I could have seen more outside of the centro storico, the main area in town. I did visit the Villa Communale Park, a small area with great views of the bay. Around 3:30 we departed Sorrento and it took us an hour and a half to return to Naples, even though its like 50 kilometers. It was alright, everyone took the opportunity to dose off. Roberto’s thick Italian accent woke us all up by saying “wakey wakey.” I thought it was hilarious.

Back in Naples, I relaxed for an hour or so and had dinner on the ship. Later on, I went out exploring with some friends, and I had my first experiences of Neapolitan traffic. I thought St. Petersburg was rough. Oh my god, Russia has NOTHING on this. Crosswalking monitors barely exist. I didn’t follow one and never saw a green man go. The first night I almost died about three times. Red lights? Yeah right. There was never a time I crossed a street when cars were stopped. You have to walk through them as they are flying past. I’m so not kidding. I can’t imagine what tourists do with little kids…I would be terrified to cross the street. My MTV guide book did not prepare me for the experience when it wrote

“Stepping off the curb at first will seem like a death wish, but it is quite simple if you follow one basic rule: just go. Don’t step into the middle of the freeway or speeding vehicles, but generally cars and scooters will swerve around you.”

UM, yeah you have no choice but to step in front of speeding vehicles. I can laugh at it now tucked away in my cabin but traffic was a harrowing experience. I can’t imagine a worse place. I usually followed a local or two as they were crossing….I definitely have become more bold, which I suppose is good. The locals didn’t seem phased at all…they were perfectly fine. I would never want to drive in Naples…nothing could persuade me. It’s chaos.

Anyway, my friends and I found some great gelato and walked around the Piazza del Plebiscito, which was beautifully illuminated at night. The same can be said for the Piazza Trieste e Trento, which has a wonderfully nice fountain. After hanging out on the streets, we walked back towards the ship, which is right next to Castel Nuovo. The name is kind of misleading if you’re an outsider, because the castle was actually built in the 13th century (I’ve heard it’s also known as Maschio Angioino). Inside it’s now a museum and unfortunately I wasn’t able to go visit it but we were lucky to hear a concert going on inside the castle courtyard that night. We didn’t actually go inside and see the singers but we could still hear the opera outside.
At the end of the my first day, I felt sicker than ever. My voice was basically gone. But walking around Naples really piqued my curiosity. It seemed so different than the Italy I had always been shown in movies and pop culture. But the next day had been planned to see the town of Amalfi with Momoko and her SAS grandparents, Sue and Jim. Exploring Naples further would have to wait.

Sick at Sea

2008-07-22T13:31:00.001-04:00

Ah, I’ve been horribly sick the past few days. At first it was seasickness, then a terrible sore throat came along, followed by lots of congestion, sinus problems…this morning I took day quill, only to throw up three times right after…luckily I got my hands on some Sudafed and some other things…the past two nights I got no sleep whatsoever…this morning we were SO bumpy…I was falling over this morning walking to breakfast, I had to skip global studies I felt so sick…I feel better now but nowhere near fully recovered. I’ll push myself for Italy but I’m worried I’ll be so worn down right after that I’ll still be sick in Turkey (we only have two days between Italy and Turkey). Send me healthy energy! The funny thing is, I have taken so many precautions against becoming sick…the seasickness is hard to prevent sometimes (only so many pills/ wrist bands, etc) but the sore throat came out of nowhere…eh. I’m going to logistical preport in an a half an hour but then going straight to bed…hopefully I’ll have more strength in me tomorrow for Pompeii and Sorrento.

AFRICA!

2008-07-20T14:18:00.001-04:00

So today we passed through the Straight of Gibraltar and I got to see Morocco! It was so cool…unfortunately, pretty foggy so the pictures weren’t as clear and crisp but still a very wonderful experience…I’ve always had this romantic vision of Morocco floating around in my head so seeing the actual land was an incredible feeling! To my surprise, the coastline was very mountainous…but so grand! When we head back to the states, we will have to stop for at least six hours to refuel…unfortunately we won’t be able to disembark at that time L . We have two more days of sailing until we get to Italy! I’ve decided to stay in Naples and explore the Amalfi coast region instead of traveling to Rome, but I’m still just as excited! We are all very happy for the warmer weather…the past month hasn’t felt like summer at all but I’m certain all of that will change now that we approach the Mediterranean.

An End to Belgium?

2008-07-18T08:19:00.001-04:00

Although I did quickly mention the many differences between the north and the south, I forgot to talk about the current political crisis in Belgium, which has arisen due to those very regional distinctions. As I previously mentioned, the Dutch north has become the far richer area and in Wallonia, unemployment rates are 2-3 times higher. Flanders wants economic autonomy and views the Walloons as “welfare deadbeats” (according to Prof. Lynch of UVA). The tables have turned and many Dutch-speakers are advocating for an independent Flanders. This is a country with a very complex government system, as I already talked about. And now, just on Monday when we were docked in Belgium, the prime minister Yves Leterme resigned. Last year, Leterme had said that Walloons are “intellectually incapable of learning Flemish.” His own mother spoke French! These are the kind of powerful sentiments that exist between the north and the south….and yet as a tourist, one could never notice any of this….however, Brussels, which is a separate federal district, did feel very different from Antwerp, and Brussels is a bilingual area! But what will happen to Belgium? Would the EU let a split occur? And if so, what would that mean for other areas, such as Scotland, northern Italy, Catalonia in Spain? Is it possible that I will never be able to visit Belgium as we know it today?

Belgium!

2008-07-17T14:51:00.002-04:00

Just a quick note: I won't be able to upload any pictures/videos until I get to Italy. We don't have much internet time on the ship, and uploading any files basically cuts your time in half...sorry!

July 16

So, Belgium! I had a lovely stay in this country and wish I had more time to explore. I have no idea whether or not I'll have the chance to return but I would highly recommend Belgium to others as a tourist destination. The people were so very helpful, there's a great deal of diversity, and the food is AMAZING. Here's some info about Belgium before I get started. Most people don't know that Belgium has two main languages: French in the south, or Wallonia, and Flemish Dutch in the north, or Flanders. Luckily, I was able to experience both areas. Historically, there has always been a great rift between the north and the south, one established based off of religious, linguistic, economic, and ethnic differences. In the past, there was an enormous gap in the wealth between the north and the south....Wallonia had the higher ground with its large coal deposits and modernized quite early. The north remained predominately agricultural. But in the past 40 some years, there has been a complete reversal in the relationship between Flanders and Wallonia. Now, the north has overtaken the south in prosperity and growrth rates. One thing I should have known...Antwerp (or it's Dutch name: Antwerpen, the French name: Anvers) is the diamond capital of the world! Really cool.....needless to say, many shops selling diamonds and jewelry all around the city. Here's some more interesting information: Belgium has ten provinces, each with its own administrative governing functions, but the real authoritative power lies in the regions: the Flemish region, the capital of Brussels (which is similar to the DC) and the Walloon region. Each has its own parliament. There are also four executive bodies! Clearly, they have a very complex system of government, which tends to be very costly. As a result, they have the largest public debt in western Europe.

Belgium is a small country, about the size of New Hampshire but is one of the most densely populated in the world. The two major cities, of course, are Antwerp and Brussels (Brussels is home to the European Union and NATO). If I didn't travel to Amsterdam, I would have gone to Bruges and Ghent, other popular destinations. I loved Belgium. I only have the best things to say. The people were so, so kind! Yesterday we explored Brussles (Bruxelles) and had a great time. The first thing I went to see was the Atonium, basically a model of a giant atom (335 feet tall), about 165 billion times the size of an actual atom. It was made in 1958 for a universal exposition. We took the metro to get there...it was kind of on the outskirts of the city but worth the trip. Especially since we didn't have to pay anything to see it...unless you wanted to go inside. From the top of the atom, there were tourists gliding down on a line to the ground...a friend told me it was like 25 euros to do this....it was tempting.....

Mini Europe was right next to the Atonium but we decided to skip it. Instead, we took the metro back to Central Station and walked to the Grand Place, a really great, large open square with fantastic architecture. The buildings are in the Flemish Renaissance style, from the 16th and early 17th century. Supposedly, they were all rebuilt after French troops destroyed them in the late 1600s? Not quite sure about that one...check me on it...regardless, the guildhouses are not orginial...but so beautiful! There was the Hotel de Ville, the old town hall, the Maison du Roi which is now the Musee de la Ville de Bruxelles, which is something of a history of the city museum. My favorite part of the Grand Place was Le Cornet, the guildhouse of the boatmen. Unfortunately, the past two days were pretty rainy/gray so we didn't get to see everything in its grand splendor. I wish I had come in August...the Grand Place is taken over by the Tapis de Fleurs, where the whole center is covered with flowers. Still, seeing the Grand Place was great...the architecture is unlike anything we see in the states...

After walking around the Grand Place, we were starving and anxious to try frites. French fries are actually incorrectly named...they should be called Belgian fries, but here they are simply known as frites. Everyone had told me to expect heaven, and in truth, they were great. Here they serve them with mayonnaise and when we first heard this, our reaction wasn't the best. But then we learned that there is a wide selection of different types of mayo...the kind I got was pretty spicy...definitely not the mayo I'm used to. After eating, we went in search of Mannekin-Pis, a statue of a tiny boy peeing. I don't know, the Belgians love it. Supposedly, they even make costumes for the boy...more than 500 have been made. So we had to see it...and we were surprised at how small he is!!! There were security cameras and so on...I kind of appreciate how much they love this statue...its nice :)

On the same street, we found waffles. OH MY GOD. I don't think I'll ever have another culinary experience like this one. For about 4 euros, I bought a waffle filled with strawberries, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream. It was orgasmic. Honestly. I had another today in Antwerp. Just bloody fantastic. Wow. Really, I didn't think they would be different from the Belgian waffles in the States. But they belong in an entirely different category. But I don't get it! Why can't we figure out the secret and make these in the US??? And what about the chocolate???????? The chocolate is just .......oh god, for a chocolate lover, Belgium was just the best. I bought a lot of chocolate and will be very happy for the next few days until we get to Italy. I bought chocolate for family and friends, but honestly, I don't think they'll last with me in the same vicinity. Sorry! Ah, Belgium. Only good thoughts.

After my five minute trip to heaven, I headed to the Musees Royaux des Beaux-Arts. It took awhile for me to find the place...I think I was still in la la land. It cost less than five euros for me to get into the Royal Museums of the Fine Arts, and it was worth it. Unfortunately, I only had time to spend in the Musee d'Art Ancien, which housed artwork from the 15th through the 18th centuries. The two most famous pieces I saw were Pieter Brueghel the Elder's "The Fall of Icarus" as well as "The Death of Marat" by Jacques Louis David. I really do wish I could have spent more time there, but I only had a bit of an hour. I didn't do much sightseeing in Amsterdam, Brussels, or Antwerp...most of the time was spent simply walking and observing. In Brussels, I passed SO many churches...the Cathedrale des Saints Michel et Gudule, the Eglise Saint-Jacques-sur-Coudenberg, and so on. Also, I walked past the Palais Royal and Les Musee Belvue and the Palais de Charles de Lorraine. Sometimes I prefer walking to see a city...in Amsterdam we walked all over the place, and it was refreshing. By the time the late afternoon rolled around, I was pretty exhuasted (big surprise) and decided to go back to Gare Centrale to get back to Antwerp.

The only discomforting moments I had in Belgium were related to the trains. I had bought a round ticket in Antwerp so I didn't have to worry about buying another ticket (as I have done with all my other journeys) but if I hadn't, I have no idea how I would have gotten a ticket back. The train station was pretty difficult for my friends and I to navigate around, but I didn't think I would have much of a problem returning. Ha. So, I found the track where the trains depart to Antwerpen but there were so many trains coming and going, it was very difficult to tell which one was which! The monitors didn't help the confusion....at one point I asked the lady next to me if the train in front of us was going to Antwerp and she answered back in french, I don't know. She left and I shrugged my shoulders. Another woman asked me in french questions about the trains....there was nothing I could really do or say, but even the locals were confused. At one point, another train approached and the woman I had previously asked came over to me and pointed to the train. "Antwerp? Anvers?" I asked. She nodded. I repeated myself. She did the same. So I got on. And almost immediately, I realized I made a mistake. Luckily, we were heading in the same direction, which I could tell when we got to Mechelen, which is between Antwerp and Brussels. But there was no english and I was too embarassed to ask the man next to me, who I think noticed my confusion. When the woman came to collect tickets, she stopped, looked at mine, and started speaking in French and then Flemish. "English?" she asked me. I nodded eagerly. I immediately started to explain. "Someone told me this was going to Antwerp!" The woman chuckled a bit, I was clearly distressed....but she calmed me down. "It happens every day. You will get off at the next station, in Lier, and then get on the next train, which is going to Antwerp. I will give you a slip that will tell the next conducter you are a lost passenger." I started laughing. That's kind of romantic, isn't it? Lost passenger...the thought definitely helped a bit with the embarassment. As we approached Lier, I got up and waited alongside the door. The person who was sitting next to me, a man with a kind face who was in his late 30s I would guess, also got up. I had wondered if he knew English and had heard all that had gone on. He saw me fidgeting with my things and said "I think the train to Antwerp is on track 2. Well, that is what it is in the morning. When you get off, I will show you where you can go to check." Pointing, he directed me to the building where I could double check the track. "Thank you so much! I really appreciate it... I thought the woman was correct, but I wasn't totally sure." He shrugged his shoulders. "Today was an odd day. There were track changes. The train before this one and directly after were going to Antwerp, and luckily, you are not far, so it's okay." It was nice to be reassured that I wasn't a complete idiot. He was right, the train was on track 2 and I got back to Antwerp in less than 20 minutes. No big deal. His kindness was not unusual here. So many people helped me out, in big ways and smaller ones. I would never have to ask anyone...if they heard or saw I was confused, they said something themselves. It was wonderful, really.

I got back to the ship in time for dinner (yay! save money!) and relaxed a bit before going out to celebrate a friend's 21st birthday. I had my chance to try flavored Lambic beer, called Kriek. I had cherry last night, and rasberry today around lunchtime. It was amazing! Thank goodness its not readily available in the states because I would be an alcoholic. Lambic is one of the most well known types of beer in Belgium. This is how one of my guidebooks described it:

in the valley of the Senne, there is a natural borne yeast called Brettanomcyes. For centuries, brewers have simply left their warm wheat beer wort uncovered during the winter months, and allowed air to deliver the yeast into it. The fermenting beer is then left to mature in wooden cases for a year or more.

So, does not sound very appetizing. But oh wow-so good!!!! I didn't get to try the Trappist ales, which are interestingly enough, made in abbeys. The only brewing monasteries in the world are located in Belgium and there are about six of them. The word "Trappist" comes from the silent order of Cistercian monks who made them. Unlike the other ports we've been in, beer was incredibly cheap here.

I got in relatively early last night but wasn't able to get all the sleep I wanted.

July 17

Today was the day to explore Antwerp, our port city. I had walked through and seen much of it already, but it was nice to be more leisurely about it. The only thing I paid to do was to enter the Antwerp Cathedral (2 euros for students), a truly spectacular sight, which is also known as Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekathedraal. It's visible from almost anywhere in Antwerp....and was fantastic to see inside. From what I heard, it took over 100 years to build and is the largest gothic church in the Benelux region. The cathedral was probably the biggest I've ever been in....and had a four Ruben masterpieces, including:

-The Raising of the Cross (1610)
-The Descent from the Cross (1614)
-The Resurrection of Christ (1612)
-The Ascension of the Virgin (1626)

Earlier in the morning, I had passed several interesting places including the Nationaal Scheepvaartmuseum, which looks like an old castle from the outside. We also passed Vleeshuis, which was the guildhouse of the butchers in the 16th century. Now, it has been made into a music museum. The architecture was really insane...and the red color made it truly look like a meat house!! Nearby is the Grote Markt, the main square of Antwerp, very similar to the Grand Place in Brussels. Guildhouses and all. I actually like this better than the Grand Place...it was a lot more intimate. Supposedly Antwerp was named after a Roman soldier defeating a giant who then threw the hand of the giant into the Schelde river...I guess the latin word for throwing the hand is hand-werpen, so Antwerpen came from that....anyhow, in the middle of the Grote Markt, there is a statue honoring the Roman Brabo, who saved the city.

Recently, Antwerp has been gaining popularity as a fashion mecca. The Mier, which is the main pedestrian shopping street, is amazing. So many stores! All of these European cities have pedestrian shopping streets, it's fantastic. Oh, one of the things we've been noticing is there are SO many H&M's all over the place...there were three on the Mier....we saw about four in Amsterdam all in the same vicinity....there were two on the Stroget in Copenhagen about 2 minutes walking distance apart....really interesting...I thought it was an American store, but we're thinking maybe not because its so popular. Even Bergen had an H&M. I'll do some research.......

The first day we arrived in Antwerp we walked along the Mier to get to the train station. As we passed the stores, we noticed very odd displays in the window. Really strange mannequins....the only time I had seen these were in halloween stores...we just thought, maybe that's the way they do it. It was just extremely eccentric and slightly humorous but I was still perplexed at the meaning. Today I found out there's been a contest between the stores...I don't know what the prompt was: the scariest display?

Its 8:30pm right now and I'm about to go to bed. Maybe I'll watch a movie..I need to write some field reports but I don't have the energy, I'm just so tired. Writing these blogs takes quite a while in itself. I started working on these when I got in around 4ish? But of course, there's been numerous interruptions. Dinner, safety drill, etc.

My favorite moment in Belgium was at the end of my port experience, when I entered a Nepalese craft store that had been recommended. In the middle of our square on the ship, we have a graffiti board put up for each port. On it, students can write what place they liked or disliked, what they recommend, etc. I had read about this particular store and it had great reviews: nice service, free tea upon entry (who doesnt love that?) and great, well priced jewelry. When I was on my way back to the ship, I saw a sign for it and decided to go in. It was a lovely store...fantastic energy. There were singing bowls (YES!!), scarfs, and lots of jewelry, all what I expected. And when the woman behind the counter, (about 30 I would say, from Nepal,...she had told me she had been in Europe for about 6 years) saw me come in, she brought me over a cup of tea and it was delicious. There were two others in the store at the time, making purchases. The energy was just so amazing, I just had to buy something. I wear a long necklace every day with two crosses on it and various other pendants. People can always hear me coming from far away, I jingle! So I decided to buy a carnelian stone to put on the necklace but I wanted to make sure it fit first. She helped me out immediately, and we easily fell into conversation. I told her other students on my ship enjoyed her store so much they recommended it to the whole shipboard community. Before I knew it, the woman was so overwhelmed with joy, we were hugging about the wonder of life, tears were coming to her eyes...I didn't know the name of this woman but it was such an incredible moment....she was so happy to hear that people liked her store...it was too much for her. We had this great human bond...I knew her heart just by seeing her face. She made me remember all my blessings and I left her store probably the happiest I've been this whole trip. Definitely the most grateful I've been. And then when I passed through security to get on the ship, I made it a point to tell the older Belgian man that he has a lovely city and a beautiful country. He had a similar reaction to the woman, without the tears and hugging, of course. Just very happy. I loved it.

Oh, one more thing about the metro in Brussels. They never checked our tickets, there was no way to monitor people using the metro. It's all based on the expectation that one will follow the rules. It's hard to know how many people take advantage of the situation, and clearly if one is caught without a ticket, they have to pay huge fines. But I got the sense that no one takes that chance and voluntarly follows the rules. I would like to think that would work in a US city, but that would be naive. And yet, why? Are people's lives that harder that they would feel the need to cheat the system? Where do the differences lie? Why does it work here and not in the US? Will it ever work there?

The more I see of the world, the more questions I have about my own country.

Amsterdam pt. 2

2008-07-16T14:22:00.000-04:00

Another busy day has come and gone! Today we traveled to see Brussels, technically the capital of Europe. But before I talk about that, I'll say more about Amsterdam. Traveling to a new city is always an interesting mind exercise for me. Before I visit a place, I always have ideas of how a city should feel based on what I know about the area, its history, the architecture, the people, and so on. In my head, all of these images come together to create one truly unique vibe. However, this vibe, this feeling is usually way off. Amsterdam was like that for me, as was Copenhagen, and even St. Petersburg. It's in no way a disappointment, just different from what I expect. In Amsterdam's case, I think it was a larger difference because I had always had these romantic feelings for the city....making it larger than life...but of course, it wasn't. Nothing ever is. On one hand, it was literally smaller than I imagined. The canals were beautiful...many times we walked along side them. If we had more time, I would have liked to take a canal ride. I suppose I'll make up a little list of my final impressions of Amsterdam:
1. Lively
It was easily the busiest city we've been to thus far. Even St. Petersburg didn't have so many hordes of people, despite having a population like 4 times the size. Lots of people outside, walking around, hanging out...almost claustraphoic at times. And we weren't always in the center of Amsterdam or in the most touristy places. Definitely, a lively, upbeat kind of atmosphere.
2. Bikes! Again!
I don't know which city had more bikes, here or Copenhagen. Probably Amsterdam....it's funny, we didn't look out for cars or trams but rather bikes. So many people use them and I love seeing it. I think things weren't as formal here in terms of bike rules and such as they were in Copenhagen but that's okay. I would have loved to have rented a bike and rode along the canals, which I really came to love. I wish Americans would adopt the European appreciation of bicycles....it would do so much good....
3. Canals
The canals were the peace and calm of the city. There were so many......and one of my favorite moments of the trip was walking along Prinsengracht in the morning, on my way to Anne Frank. They were still and silent, but seemed to keep the city in check. Part of Amsterdam was like the energy and enthusiasm of a teenager, anxious for wildness. But the canals were the wise, the thoughtful, the all knowing. I almost had a spiritual experience being near them....they had always been there in Amsterdam's history...
4. Coffeeshops
It's actually illegal to smoke or buy cannibis but in Amsterdam, it's pretty widely tolerated and much of it happens in coffeeshops, which are not what we Americans think of as a coffee shop. Oh no, this is where hashish and marijuana are sold...the shops are licensed but we heard a lot about people slipping things into drinks here or just messing around with tourists in general....but we could smell pot in places all over the city.....I didn't see much police....and yet, I never felt unsafe.
5. Americans
There were A LOT of American tourists...I engaged in numerous conversations with people traveling from the states...I spoke with more Americans here than in all the previous countries combined. It's always comforting to speak with fellow Americans...we immediately share this bond that only travelers and foreigners can establish with one another...a similar understanding of excitement mixed with confusions and anxiousness.

People were very friendly in Amsterdam, tourists and locals alike. At one point, I entered a cheese shop and immediately my senses picked up on the wonderful aroma. "It smells great in here!" I said, to no one in particular. The shop owner apparently heard me and replied, "it's my aftershave!" I burst into laughter...people in Belgium and the Netherlands have been so good natured and helpful...today, I got on the wrong train to Antwerp from Brussles (someone misinformed me) but two people on the train helped me. It was wonderful, and turned a potentially inconvenient situtation into a relatively stress free one.

I'm back in Antwerp now and have one more day to explore! I'm just happy I don't have to travel far, I'm a bit tired....

oh ps...I apologize for any poor grammar, mispellings, etc...I write these blogs very quickly and don't always have time to reread them....forgive me!

Amsterdam

2008-07-15T16:01:00.003-04:00

The past two days has felt like two weeks....my body aches, my eyes drift off into the realm of some dream state, and my mind is overwhelmed with everything I've seen. And even a couple hours ago seems like a week ago.......time is a funny thing.... almost hypnotized when the senses are used so much.......

We actually arrived in Antwerp sunday night but I had already gone to sleep and missed our docking. Traveling through the Kiel Canal saved us a LOT of time and we ended up coming into Belgium earlier than planned. Yesterday morning (oh my god....it really cannot be yesterday morning) I awoke pretty early to enjoy a hearty breakfast before my adventures...but first, we had our diplmatic briefing with representatives from the embassy in Brussels (foreign service YES!). Once the ship was cleared and I got my passport, a couple friends and I speedwalked to the central train station, hoping to jump on a train to Amsterdam as soon as possible. Even during the speedwalk, I couldn't help but admire the city of Antwerp. By far, my first impressions were the best of any port city we've been to. I couldn't wait to return to explore more! Luckily, the station wasn't difficult to find, basically just a straight away from the port. We didn't have much time to look around the station...but it has a gorgeous interior..I'm planning on taking many pictures later. Buying a ticket to Amsterdam took less than five minutes (including waiting in line) and was a breeze. One way was about 19 euros (for under 26). We caught the 10am train...quite a feat in our case...The train ride was pleasant enough, minus a man who was across from me....at times making me feel rather uncomfortable....incessant, sinister type staring...oh well, he got off before Amsterdam so no harm done. The train took roughly two hours....so we arrived just for lunch time! After exchanging cash and kroners and such into euros, we stepped out of the train station very enthusiastically.

I had ALWAYS wanted to go to Amsterdam. If someone asked me to choose between Paris and Amsterdam, I would have chosen the latter. In a heartbeat. I think I was always drawn to the area because of my middle school obsession with Anne Frank, or maybe it was the romance of the canals and architecture....who knows....I was just very, very excited to be there. Almost immediately we were in the red light district, or on the outskirts of it at least. Our first impressions were of lots of sex shops, which wasn't too surprising.

Soon we were in the better parts of Amsterdam....with lots of fashionable stores, cafes, (NOT coffee shops), cute streets, etc. We were starving and had no trouble deciding on Cafe Luna, a really cute place on Kalverstraat. I got a cheese sandwich with lettuce, egg, and cucumber on a baguette as well as a Brussels waffle with chocolate (wanted to have that for comparing purposes!). All delicious. When we were finished we continued walking along, now in the hopes of finding the hotel we booked, on Marnixstraat. When we found it, we were told they weren't able to accomodate us, but had set up our stay with another hotel down the road. "Down the road" turned out to be a little farther, past where Marnixstraat turns into Weteringsch. We had some difficulty finding the new hotel at first, but after twenty minutes of searching and asking Dutch locals, we found Hotel Sphinx.

When we got inside, we were told our room wouldn't be ready until an hour later, so we decided to hit up the Van Gogh museum (gogh is actually pronounced like hhawwh...ha, perhaps thats not the correct phonetic way....in any case, we say it WRONG). The museum not only had a rather large collection of his works but also many contemporary pieces as well. I was really happy to see some of my favorite pieces, pieces that I hang on my wall and see every day.....lovely to see them in person! My plan has been to buy an art print from every country I go to as my main souvenir (who really likes those spoons, anyway?) so for the rest of the trip I carried around my poster in this elongated triangular shape holder...couldve been used as a weapon, I swear. We had spent about 3 hours walking and from and in the museum itself, so we headed back to Sphinx to check in.

Everything was set up when we got there and was generally satisfied with our room. We were just happy to have three beds. But, what we would come to discover later on that night, was that the walls were extremely thin. And lucky for us, about four hooligans from England were staying next door and made quite a ruckus. We got VERY little sleep. But before we went to sleep, we decided to head towards the Anne Frank house, thinking the crowds would be almost non existant closer to 9pm. They weren't. There was no way we could get in and see it in enough time before the place closed. So instead, we went out to get dinner and found a cheap vegetarian place called Maoz, where we all got falafels. After, we went to a chocolate shop where we either indulged in ice cream, waffles, or just a drink (hot chocolate for me).

Nearby was Leidseplein, a popular square filled with restuarants and the like. We stopped for about fifteen minutes to watch some break dancers put on a show, hopefully I'll be able to upload the videos I took. We were all pretty whipped by then and decided to have an early night since it was decided we would wake up pretty early the next day. Getting up wasn't that difficult since I was pretty much awake the entire night (thanks to our considerate neighbors). When we checked out, I was almost running to the Anne Frank house. I don't know, I think it's just me but perhaps its an American trait...I just had this image of massive crowds forming even an hour before the place opened....I was prepared to be the 50th person in line even at like 830.....so I booked it...for real. I was getting some true exercise there...carrying my bags around, the Van Gogh poster holder of death....I don't know, I was oddly energized. And when I got to Prinsengracht 263 (well, really like 265 because they bought like the all the buildings around the main building) there was only ONE person in line. Granted, it was about 8am and the museum was set to open in at least forty five minutes. But I was proud of this speed walking accomplishment...it definitely paid off. For a little bit, I put my stuff down with my friends and walked around the area in search for some caffeine (even though I really didn't need any) and instead passed by the Tulip museum, which I had heard about, but it didn't seem too impressing. After failing at my mission, I returned to the long lines I had anticipated.

But we were second! And we easily got in when it opened and I loved every moment of it. It had been a dream to be in this place....so much so that I tread lightly on the floors, as if they were sacred. When I was in middle school, I truly became obsessed with The Diary of Anne Frank....I would dream that I too was hiding as a Jew in the Holocaust. To me, this was one of the most important landmarks in Europe. And the speed walking truly paid off...there wasn't really anyone ahead of me.....I spent several minutes ON MY OWN in the rooms.......I was in Anne's room by myself for awhile, ......it was really an intense, emotional experience....and yet, very eerie at the same time. Yeah, totally eerie. I imagine that effect would have been curtailed a bit had there been more tourists around me........in any case, I was really lucky.

We stayed in the museum for about a little more than an hour and then hit a cafe near by for some breakfast. We all got dutch pancakes which were simply put, amazing. I stayed there for awhile because it was a wi fi spot and I had my laptop......when I was done, we went to see Westerkerk, a church almost right next to the Anne Frank museum. I remember reading how the bells and the church in general were a great comfort to Anne, but I had also read in one of my guidebooks that climbing the tower was a must do in Amsterdam. Westerkerk, which was built in the 17th century, has the tallest tower in the city, about 280 feet....which we climbed on extremely tight and narrow staircases....ah it was an experience, that's for sure! Less than ten people can be taken up at at time its so intense. If one is afraid of heights or is claustrophobic, this is not for you. Older people and larger people would have some difficulty as well. It was great though, very exciting! It took us at least ten minutes to get to the top...I thought the climbing would never end, I don't know how the tour guides go up and down so often. But the views from the tower overlooking the city are spectacular!!! It was perhaps the best moment I had in Amsterdam (besides being alone in the secret annex). If you are heading to Amsterdam, you HAVE TO DO THIS! It was fantastic....great panoramic views of the city, the canals, everything. We stayed up there for quite a bit before heading back down, which was a challenge in itself. I also learned that Rembrant and his son Titus were buried here in this church? Pretty cool........

We did a lot of walking around and observing afterwards, including passing Koninklijk Paleis, a royal palace. Supposedly it was originally meant to be Europe's largest town hall but when Napoleon came in 1808 and made his brother king of Holland, it turned into a palace. We also went through Rosse Buurt, or the Red Light District. It was certainly interesting...lots of sex shops, places to see sex shows, etc...and then in the windows of many buildings were prositutes standing, trying to get passerbys to come in....

Alright, so that is part 1 of Amsterdam. I'm so tired, I have to go to sleep...hopefully will write tommorrow.

Germany and the Kiel Canal!

2008-07-12T07:29:00.001-04:00

About a week ago, we found out that we would be traveling through the Kiel Canal (previously known as the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Kanal) in Germany to get to Belgium! Originally, we were going to travel by going around the Jutland Peninsula, which we went through to get to Russia from Norway. The Kiel Canal was built in the late 19th century and is the busiest canal in the world, with about 45,000 ships passing through each year! (funny, I had only ever heard of the Panama canal but this one is much busier!) By going through the Kiel Canal, we have been able to save time and money. For those who are not familiar, the canal connects the North Sea with the Baltic Sea. According to wikipedia, most cruise ships cannot pass through the canal so we are quiet lucky! I did see many locals on the side of the canal watching as we pass through....it's pretty cool to say we've all actually been in Germany and seen the landscape (it is Germany on both sides of the canal) without setting foot on the land. But I've seen it! You would be amazed how close we are....hopefully later I'll be able to upload the pictures I took...we could easily swim to the shore....on both sides...we're THAT close. So here's a shoutout to Nina! I've been to Germany!

****

One thing has all been on our minds as we get closer to sailing to the southern Europe...what will happen about Turkey. When we were in Denmark, there was an incident outside of the American consulate in Turkey, where six people were killed. It is not that unusual to change plans or be re routed...so we're not sure what's going to happen...the rumor I heard is the alternative is going to France, Spain, or Egypt...I would LOVE Egypt...but personally, Turkey was the highlight of this trip....so it will be quite a downer if it doesn't happen...unless, of course..I go see the pyramids and ride camels instead, .....hmm....

Tommorrow I have two midterms and then on monday we arrive in Antwerp...the plan is to get on a train to go to Amsterdam asap and spend monday and tuesday there...come back and hit Brussels and see Antwerp....busy!!

Korsor and final thoughts on Scandinavia

2008-07-11T11:13:00.002-04:00

July 11

This morning was one of the most relaxing mornings of the past four weeks. I pulled myself out of bed early, knowing I would regret missing breakfast if I slept in. It was a beautiful day out and I had barely seen any of Korsor. I left the ship around 9 and walked around the town for a good two hours. Although there aren't any real touristy attractions, it was so much nicer to simply observe the comings and goings of the locals. When I left the ship, I walked for about five minutes until I crossed a bridge that brought me to the main part of Korsor, which had some small shops and restuarants. I walked along a street called Nygade where I stopped at a tourist office for a map. Then took a left onto a small street called Algade, which led to the main church in Korsor. Then, I took another left onto Brogade, which finally brought me to the street that ran along the harbour, Havnegade. Near the pier, I found a bench and spent a good half an hour taking in the landscape around me. Everything was so quiet...I had written in my notebook, "I feel so wonderful here..on my own...I'm beside the water, watching the locals take their boats out and their dogs for walks-it is a quaint town, one that graciously accepts its visitors, one that appreciates the sea, one that lives on its own and understands the beauty of simplicity...one that doesn't take for granted the stem of a single flower. And the clouds-never has the sky felt closer to humans than it does here...I had the same feeling in Sweden...oh, if only I could paint........"

After some reflecting, I walked back towards the ship but continued on past it, to explore the other part of Korsor. The main road I walked on was called Revvej, which let me pass by many charming homes, as well as the library, and also a very cute bakery, from where I indulged in a brownie. Korsor vaguely reminded me of downeast Maine, near where my mother lives. If there was one word to describe the town, it would be simple. Not that it didn't have stores and a bar or two, not that the people were backwards in any sense...Korsor to me seemed like an oasis, completely separate from the rest of the world, surrounded by only good energy, void of darkness altogether. If the world gives in to chaos, Korsor would somehow be safe, I'm sure.

****

I've been to three Scandinavian countries thus far and I thought I would share some of my lasting impressions, even though they are pretty generalized:

1. Clean
There has been a complete lack of trash in Norway, Denmark, and Sweden. The streets were spotless! No one even thinks to litter....it seems to be a common duty to keep one's city clean...although we want this in the States, we are all guilty of littering. We don't take those extra steps to find a trash can..in short, we are lazy. And ultimately, even if you yourself are determined to see America as clean as Scandinavia, your neighbor may not give the idea a second thought. Here it doesn't seem to be a problem at all. It will be interesting to compare Naples which has a rather large rubbish issue.
2. Safe
I never once felt in harm's danger. Even though I had one or two locks on my bags and stayed alert throughout my visits, I rarely had to give a creepy man the evil eye or constantly check my bag and wallet. The people were also so welcoming, which let us relax and be at ease. I only knew of one person who used her security belt in scandinavian countries, and that was only because she was used to it. In Korsor, kids of ages seven or eight would ride their bikes alone and go explore. Anywhere in Scandinavia seemed to be the perfect place to raise a child (maternity leave is also VERY generous, and fathers can even take off quite a bit of time..childcare is free as well). People truly look out for each other here. After all, the Danes in particular are said to be the happiest people in their world.
3.Bikes!
Bikes were everywhere, especially in Copenhagen, where there are separate lanes for bikers, and even separate lights. I saw more bikes than cars my entire time in Cph. People ride with baksets and it seems to be the transporation of choice for most Danes. In Bergen, there weren't as many bikers but Malmo has a considerable lot. Tourists can also be included in the practice-there are bikes to rent but also city bikes one can pick up from the street...a 20DKK is needed for a deposit but once the bike is returned, so is your money. It's a wonderful system that seems to have been adopted in many European cities. If only America could jump on the bandwagon.........
4. English
Traveling is incredibly convenient mainly because everyone speaks almost perfect English. Even though we tried to speak either Norwegian, Danish, or Sweden, it was simply a matter of respect and out of politeness.
5. Expensive
Probably the only downfall of Scandinavia on the whole was how expensive it was. Meals were always around $15, and these were the doable places. I didn't buy any souvenirs in Denmark or Sweden, and only a poster from the Bergen Art Museum. Scandinavia is expensive regardless but coming as an American tourist was even more difficult...thank you Mr. Bush for our lovely exchange rates. It won't get easier either because the majority of countries we hit next are on the Euro, so....eh.

Regardless of the expenses, Scandinavia was wonderful. The word civilized keeps coming to mind. The people were generous, sweet, and helpful. People are happy and life is good here. I can't imagine how different Scandinavia will seem when I move to India in the fall...........

Sweden

2008-07-11T09:00:00.004-04:00

(wrote this earlier)
On a train back to Korsor from a day spent in Sweden. Now that I've been to three Scandinavian countries, I can tell you there are only subtle differences between them. Honestly, I could have passed on going to Sweden because it was so similar to Denmark. If anything, Malmo, Sweden had a more cosmopolitan feel than Copenhagen and Bergen. But I felt so great on my own! My most cherished times have always been when I was going solo. Even though I didn't explore Sweden by myself, I still had a very interesting time. It took about 25 minutes on train to get to Malmo from Copenhagen, Sweden's third largest city. One thing I noticed was there were a lot of squares and pedestrian shopping streets, much like Copenhagen (if you're ever in Malmo, hit up Stortorget, lots of trendy stores). The best square was called Lilla Torg, which is surrounded by 16th century buildings, a very charming area indeed. If I had any money, lunch there would have been divine. Since I was very short on money, I spent the whole time walking around, taking in the scenary. We passed the City Hall, the Casino Cosmopol in Kungsparken, and walked through a public park called Slottsparken, which opened in 1872. The perfect place for a picnic! Right in Slottsparken is Slottstradgarden, an organic garden with a very nice cafe. I could just imagine my mother spending hours in this place. As we continued on our walking tour, we passed Malmohus Castle, the oldest renaissance castle in Scandinavia. After taking a few pictures (its a museum now, we just saw the exterior) we headed to the pier on the Western Harbour, which seemed to be the popular place amongst the locals. Lots of sunbathing! Then we saw Turning Torso, the highest bulding in Sweden, which has 54 stories. By this time, we were all pretty tired of walking, so we got back on a train to Copenhagen. Interestingly enough, there was a Canadian who sat right next to me who was quite the traveler himself. He hadn't been home to Vancouver in four years. For this summer, he planned a 12 country tour through Europe. Ironically, he had lived in Japan as well as Korea so Momoko was very happy to hear someone speaking her language. The oddest part is he'll be in Bangalore this fall (as will I). We've been meeting so many great people on these trips...it's wonderful to chat with world travelers..
And now I'm on a full train headed back to Korsor and can't wait for a good night's rest!

Around Copenhagen

2008-07-10T01:55:00.010-04:00

Thank goodness...my laptop is okay! I'm writing on it at about 8am this morning and today we will be taking the train from Copenhagen to Malmo, Sweden. We stayed in a pretty cheap hotel last night...but it was nice enough, called Cab Inn. These past two days have been so busy! I suppose I should start where I left off:

July 8

After arriving in Copenhagen, we left the train station and decided to wander the streets for a little. We passed Tivoli, the oldest amusement park in the world, and walked to the Stroget, supposedly the longest pedestrian shopping street also in the world. It's a great location...resturants and stores everywhere! Although they were all pretty upscale....don't expect to make some bargain buys. One of my guide books had recommended a small, cheap place right off the Stroget, so we headed towards Domhusets Smorresbrod and found it on a small side street. Smorresbrod sandwiches are a Danish staple and an unmissable treat! Smorresbrods are basically open faced sandwiches and can have different ingriedients...I bought two (they are not that large): one potato and one fried fish. Very tasty! And extremely cheap...by far the cheapest food I've gotten in Denmark....each sandwich was about 13 kroner. After eating, we decided it would be best if we found a hostel/hotel. We saw a tourist information center and found out where all the good hostels are. With our maps in hand, we headed towards DanHostel, reportedly the largest hostel in Europe. And we did get a room! But just for one night....there are 15 stories in this hostel and it was a perfect location, very close to Tivoli. However, we didn't have a hostelling card so it was more expensive for us...get one if you plan on hitting many hostels. Still cheap, it came out to be about 275 kroner (with sheets). It was a room for 6, with two sets of bunk beds. It was an exciting experience for us, being our first hostel and all. We did not meet our traveling mates until later that night...how sweet they were!

After getting our room, we walked along the Inderhaven in search for Nyhavn. Unfortunately, Tuesday was a day filled with pooring rain and we would find ourselves seeking shelter underneath the bridges, with locals and tourists alike. When it calmed a bit, we continued on our way and finally arrived at the Nyhavn Canal (it's the third picture on the side...similar to Bryggen in Bergen). The canal connects Kongens Nytorv to the harbour and is basically now just a row of beautiful buildings which are now expensive restuarants. Then we walked to Stroget again to find a restuarant called RizRaz which specializes in Mediteranean food but is buffet style. It seemed to be a very popular place with the locals and my stomach was easily satisfied with couscous, falafel, and the like. It was about 80 kroner (with water) for each of us.

As we were walking back in the direction of our hostel, we ran into the very people we had been trying to call! Nevertheless, we ended up going in separate ways....Momoko, Helena and I wanted to go to Tivoli for the night because we were planning to go to Sweden on Thursday (today!). After dropping some things off at the room, we headed to Tivoli around 9 and stayed there for a couple of hours. The entrance fee was about 80 kroner BUT each ride would have costed about $10 each...so, unbelievably expensive. I was totally bummed...I wanted to do the rides but we weren't able to because of the costs. So instead we just walked around the park (which was smaller than I thought) and took pictures of the sites. Tivoli is very quaint and sweet...intimate and very pretty at times. It's the most popular tourist destination in Copenhagen but I don't think I would go again. Perhaps if it was cheaper.......

When we were done we headed back to the hostel and soon met the other people staying in our room. There was a mother daughter team traveling throughout Scandanavia...the mother was from Cologne, Germany but they had lived in Toronto for as long as the girl had been alive (she was 25ish?). We had some wonderful conversations with them but we were all pretty exhuasted. When I was getting into bed, our other roommate came and we didn't get to talk so much...I think she was from Canada....nice enough.....

July 9

I woke up quite early yesterday and went downstairs to use the internet. When I was done, the other girls were almost ready to leave. We checked out and decided to get a head start to our day by crossing the Langebro bridge and entering the neighborhood of Christianshavn, where Christiania is! For those who are not familiar, Christiania is a self proclaimed free state/utopia that is basically separate from Copenhagen (even though its in the city). In the early 70s, a bunch of hippies took over the area, which used to be 19th century military barracks. I was happy to see the area in the morning, when the residents were starting their days themselves. We were only able to take pictures on the outskirts...there were signs in the best parts saying no photography was allowed. There was not many women living there...many older men and lots of dogs running loose (but they were clearly all cared for..they were just running around). It was pretty great...I had never seen anything like this, and I'm not really sure how to explain it. There were vendors selling various things and the colors were really great....lots of grafitti....it definitely wasn't a "clean" place...and taking the kids might not be the best thing. Not that they would be in any danger...but there were some questionable types. Still very cool!

After seeing Christiania, we walked to meet some friends outside of the NY Carlsberg Glyptotek art museum and then headed to the Cab Inn to make accomodations for last night. Afterwards, we went in search of a post office and then to find city bikes. Being unsuccesful, we spent the day hitting the following sites:

-Christiansborg

-Amalienborg

-Kastellet

-Little Mermaid

-King's Gardens

-Rosenborg Castle

-Denmark's National Gallery

Christiansborg, Amalienborg, and Rosenborg were all royal residences and we only were able to see the outside (I think some had tours?). If I remember correctly, Christiansborg is used for the Parliament now, and Rosenborg has a museum inside. Honestly, they were just sites to pass and take a couple pictures of...not very spectacular, but then again, I'm thinking of the palaces of Russia. The Little Mermaid was a long ways away and tourists were surrounding the poor statue. Truly, you can skip this. But the King's Gardens, next to Rosenborg, are lovely! The annual Jazz Festival has been going on during our stay and there seemed to be a concert going on while we were walking the park. So lovely! We wished we had a blanket and food for a picnic. Instead, we went to the Statens Museum for Kunst, or the National Gallery of Denmark (it was free on wednesday!). It was really great...there was so much I haven't seen....definitely go there!

After a full day, we were so very tired, and decided to stay in for the night...which was the best thing to do! We're about to head to the train station to go to Sweden...should be interesting!

Denmark pictures:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002885&l=fb869&id=1084770089

Danmark

2008-07-09T02:00:00.003-04:00

When we arrived, rain and a Danish band were waiting for us in Kørsor, Denmark. The quiet sea town seemed to have been awakened with our presence...there were Danes on the port waving in the rain to us as we approached and underneath a small tent, a band played American songs like 'Staying Alive' and the theme song from Friends. It was quite a greeting...we were all very surprised! Even outside of the gangway laid a small red carpet with flowers. Needless to say, my first impression of the Danes was a wonderful one. Even though I'm posting this almost a day later, I wrote the majority of this while I was on a train from Kørsor to Copenhagen. The train station was about a 20 minute walk from our port, but everyone was going in the same direction. We easily purchased tickets and boarded the 11:15 am train. As I write on the train, looking out of the window, I don't think I've ever felt more free. This is the first port where we won't be returning to teh ship for a couple of days...we are entirely on our own and I feel liberated. This is why I came to Europe. To have these moments...I am so happy. I stare out of the train window in wonder, taking in the extraordinary landscape...the sky is painted with rain clouds, but beneath the horizon lies red barns and fields of green and yellow hues...it looks oddly like the Midwest, everything is used for agriculture. Wind turbines can be always be spotted in the distance. As on the Norway in a Nutshell hike, some of the SASers are sleeping...how they astound me! How could you close your eyes on Denmark?

****

Although there is so much I want to write about yesterday and today...my internet time is almost up. We slept last night in the largest hostel in Europe..I woke up early to come downstairs to use their computers...but if anyone knows Toshiba laptops...I brought mine with me to Copenhagen, I've had it for more than a year and never had any issues....and yet last night, I tried to turn it on and nothing happened..its fully charged..I have no idea what could have been done, I always have the covering on to protect it, take very good care....who knows...so send me the best of energy and think of my laptop...it would be a huge deal and hassle for me if things did not work out...hopefully I'll write later.....

First Denmark album:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002885&l=fb869&id=1084770089

Last thoughts on Russia

2008-07-08T11:22:00.001-04:00

Tommorrow we arrive in Denmark but I'm still recovering from Russia. My mind thinks of the sullen faces I used to pass, the melancholy that seeped through their bodies, the anger in their voices-the racism in their eyes....The picture of Russia in my mind is of two distinct images: first, the wonder of the palaces and architecture and then spirit of the people which was beautiful in a much darker way, intersecting with a harshness...I want to leave it behind, but the memory has been following me around like a ghost, haunting my conscience. And yet I feel guilty leaving, forgetting-exploring new areas. I hear Russia calling to me as we sail west saying "Stay! You will understand us better!" I feel like I have left an orphan on the street, that I am abandoning a sadness and on to embrace the happiness of other places. I was so ready to leave St. Petersburg, but I feel guilty for moving on....but then, I never truly felt welcome in their country.

Here are my two albums on Russia:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002855&l=82e85&id=1084770089
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002861&l=f8ca0&id=1084770089

The Russian Orthodox Church

2008-07-07T11:26:00.002-04:00

For me, the experience of visiting Russian Orthodox Churches was a highly spiritual one, filled with endless, interesting observations that taught me much not only about the Russian character but also reminded me of my own. As someone who was raised in the Greek Orthodox Church, it was constantly a fascinating trip that was captivating as a tourist but also meaningful as a devotee. In the past, I always stayed away from the word "religious" and would hardly use it to define myself. I preferred the term "spiritual," because it allowed me to be interested in many different beliefs outside of Christianity and use religion as a way to have an intimate connection with the universe in which I live. And yet, many Orthodox Christians would also agree that spiritual is a better term.
The Orthodoxy, as evident in St. Petersburg (and of course, through my own personal experiences) creates a truly mystical experience through its outside and interior architecture, through the chanting and the numerous rituals throughout the liturgy, and of course, through the icons. Even though Orthodox Christians will say the presence of the icons is not a form of idolatry, it definitely creates a closer connection with the saints and those who left their religious legacies. It allows the individual to reach a spiritual enlightenment without the aid of a priest. It places the power of salvation in the worshippers hands.
As many others noted, icons were visible in many public places, even outside the churches. For example, on the tour buses, there were tiny icons on the windows. And they did not necessarily have to be an icon of Jesus. The icons allow Christians to truly appreciate all of the saints and to form bonds with certain ones, establishing a unique and personalized worshipping experience. So, one of those icons in the window could have been the patron saint of the driver. Or it could be the patron saint of the church he attends, or perhaps one who speaks to him more so than others. In this sense, Orthodoxy draws many connections with Hinduism. We accept that there is a single, powerful God but also show a compelling interest our saints. During the week, the churches almost become like temples, where one can enter and perform their own religious ceremonies. Even though everyone carries out the same behavior, the feeling for each person can be individualized. For example, when one enters an Orthodox Church, the first procedure is to light a candle, cross themselves, and kiss an icon. Although everyone may perform these actions, they are doing it on their own, without the interruption of others. These private steps play an integral part in the worshipping of Orthodox Christians.
At every church I visited, these steps were in place. The first church I visited, St. Andrews, had a beautiful pink exterior and was on a fairly busy street, where shops and restaurants were next door neighbors to the church. Russians with shopping bags would take ten minutes out of their day to quietly and respectively enter the church, and worship, not because other people were there and would notice them being devout Christians, but for themselves. In America, going to church on Sunday may be for some, a way to prove to others than you are religious. But once again, here in Russia, there is more focus on the individual.
Even in the popular tourist destinations, such as the Cathedral of our Lady Kazaan or St. Isaac's Cathedral, Russian Orthodox Christians still came to privately worship. Many observers have thought that the Russians were almost putting on a show for the tourists but I saw this in a completely different way. They were simply not letting anything, even tourists, interfere with their spirituality. The Kremlin had interfered with their religion during all of the Soviet times. How can tourists compare to that? This is a country that was religiously oppressed for decades, whose churches were used for absurd reasons. It is often human nature to cling to something that was previously lost and this is perhaps a reason why other Orthodox churches may not be having the same revival as the Russians. Regardless of the reasons, the Russian Orthodox experience demonstrates for its observers a much more personalized form of worship that is perhaps not as prevalent in other Christian denominations.

The Women of Russia

2008-07-07T11:25:00.000-04:00

Whenever there was a woman who spoke English, I made it a point to ask her about gender roles in Russia and what makes Russian women distinct and separate from women of other countries. I had a similar reaction from those who I asked in Norway, which was at first, bewilderment. Each woman I encountered had difficulty answering this question, at least at the beginning. All had to take a minute or two to think about what I had asked them and how to formulate their answers. They could easily talk and generalize about women of other countries but describing their the population of their own was infinitely harder. And yet every response I received was about the same. "Russian women care more about the home," they would say. "We love the hearth, our mothers, we love to take care of the house." Every time I heard this, I wondered if they loved it solely because it was expected of them, or if they genuinely wished to emulate the motherhood ideal. Perhaps this was a reflection of the older generation's feeling, but no, many of the younger girls I talked with shared the same opinion. It is not unusual at all to be married in their early twenties and already looking to have children. The priority is still to be with a man and to have a home. As one middle-aged woman told me, "we are nothing without men." Although the younger generation did not take as extreme an approach as this, they still recognized the statement as partially true. What's more, there were weddings occurring on every day of the week. Even if one hadn't talked to the women, they could easily notice the importance of marriage in Russian society today.
Another interesting observance that I had of Russian women was a trait that all Russians seemed to share, which was a certain melancholy visible on their faces. People would not respond positively to smiles or even spacebas, many ignored our efforts to speak Russian and learn about their culture. An older lady described to me, "Russian women have led harder lives, we do not smile like American women and we are not independent like the European women." A 20 something year old male said, "Russian females are more serious than other women around the world." Even the young women, whose may have been born the time of the Soviet collapse, still share this ultra pervasive sorrow. In some cases, Russian women would yell at me when they realized I could not understand what they were saying. In every scenario, I tried my hardest to speak their language and show the utmost respect, and yet the majority of women seemed angry at my presence in general.
One of the most fascinating experiences I had in Russia as a whole was watching Russian television. There was a small café I would often go to that had a television set on one of the walls. The first time I went there, I could not help but notice the tv show that was playing. Although it was fully in Russian, I could understand most of what was going on. It was a show centered around a group of women in jail but what I noticed the most was the shocking amount of violence. There were several scenes depicting women beating up other women, and also a scene of a woman being gang raped by male inmates. I tried to compare the show to something in American television, but nothing came up. Nothing seemed to be this cruel or brutal, but here it was, being watched by Russian women in the café.
As I myself looked up from time to time, I couldn't help but think how strange this show was. Where did it fit in with the Russian model of femininity and motherhood? Was this a popular show in Russia, and if so, did the women enjoy it? It seemed to be portray the exact opposite values the Russian women had been telling me they believed in. And yet, here was that melancholy that the women exhibit on their faces. This was a show focused on the suffering of women, albeit in a prison, but perhaps the Russian women have emotional connections with the characters in the series, who also experience pain.
Whatever the case be, Russia left me with puzzling picture of their women, one stuck in the intersection of the past and the future, where pain and hope mingle with each other.
...............................

Thoughts on St. Petersburg

2008-07-06T07:59:00.001-04:00

We were told not to smile so much. To practice our scowl, (suggested with a chuckle) so that we would blend in more with the Russian nature. I remember in our preports the Russians we had on board talked about the significance of the soul in Russian culture and that a certain melancholy is almost always present. It's been seventeen years since the Soviet collapsed, but as I passed the faces of St. Petersburg, their eyes displayed the weight of the past and how it still had a powerful presence in the present. Some people from SAS said that they did not meet a single "nice" Russian. And in fact, many people have been so frustrated that they were brought to tears. The first encounter that I had myself was pretty pesimistic. As soon as I got off the ship, I tried to find a bank with a few friends, hoping to exchange dollars for the ruble. I gave the lady my cash and my passport and for no apparent reason, she started yelling at me in Russian. I clearly did not understand what the problem was...I had done everything I had been told to do, in truth there was nothing else I could. The language barrier was not the issue...but she genuinely was angry. In my entire life, I had never had a stranger yell at me like she did. We both tried to understand what was happening...and my eyes pleaded with her to reach a common, utterly human bond but it didn't happen. She did not have time to see those pleading eyes, trying to express my apologies for the complications...that I truly was doing all I could...needless to say, I walked away with rubles but very disappointed. Perhaps a fluke, I thought? Just someone having a poor day at work, we've all had those. And yet in my own work experience, when someone came in who did not speak english, I would do everything in my power to make sure the person got exactly what they wanted. I went out of my way to be at their service. I was not expecting that from this woman, it didn't surprise me that it wasn't there or even that this person wasn't in a good mood..just her impatience, her anger...directed at me? And that was the beginning of the prejudice, the resentment....many moments of my time in Russia clouded with negativity simply because I was non Slavic. We had been repeatedly warned about the growing racism in Russia...there have been several attacks on people who do not look Russian...there was an Indian man traveling with us to Russia who even had such an experience...and he told us a story about one of his colleague's daughter who is studying medicine in Russia and who was in some pretty bad circumstances just last week. We were warned about skinheads and I imagined we might encounter some animosity but the extent to which we felt discriminated against was unprecedented. My Asian friends (most of whom are my closest girlfriends) were uncomfortable almost all the time. My roommate Helena had even said that the best she felt was when we were in the Hermitage, because there were so many tourists from all over. No one starring you down, giving you the worst of looks...god, it was horrible. Every single person we passed just looked at us like, why are you here? you don't belong here.......we were in a cafe one night and a man came in, heard us speaking english (in faint voices, I might add) and he literally stopped right in front of us and stared as if he was saying "what the hell are you doing in our cafe...." he didn't even seem to believe what he saw....about two minutes later, he left. There were guys in the same room who I heard make fun of us because we would say thank you in russian a lot...because we were trying to speak the language, trying to be courteous and kind and respectful...but what we recieved in return was horrible. We would go into a store or restuarant and ask if someone spoke english and people would just laugh at us and turn away...and we would ask it in Russian! They were very hard, very serious and tough. And it put a damper on our trip, for sure. But as my mother reminded me and as I already knew, life IS hard, serious, and tough for many Russians. The government is horribly corrupt, the weather is very difficult to deal with, the scars of communism still are visible, the police are the least trusted people in the communities. So a rich American teenage girl who has never experienced any of this, prancing down the streets of St. Petersburg, of course they are resentful....of courses they would look twice. But, as I wrote in the blog before, my best experiences were also with the locals. Not just the worst, as I've described. I did end up having meaningful conversations with those who could speak english (which is not many at all....probably about 1 in 9) and it got better as the days went on. On the second day, when I was at the market near the Church of the Resurrection, two Russian men who spoke very good english started speaking to me, complimenting me (honestly, trying to flirt with an young American girl). They were running a fur stall and since I had desperately wanted to buy a chapka, I decided to stay with them for awhile and consider buying it. They were godsent....just what I needed...so so sweet and kind..the older man took me over to a bank and showed me where it was...put his hand out while we crossed the street (because uh traffic is insane here..I will get to that) but it was these simple gestures that made my day. It was through my interaction with them that I truly began to understand that Russians do not take life or things lightly...things must be meaningful to react positively. They do not smile unless they are happy, they do not say thank you at every chance, for the small things....we had to cut down on the spaceba's because, being polite Americans, my friends and I say thank you 24/7. The Russians, therefore, think we're just saying it to say it...and that because we say it so much, we don't mean it. Because we smile so often, we take everything for granted. "You smile just to smile but we smile only when we're happy." "But I'm happy all the time!" They laughed, geuinely entertained by my enthusiastic responses. Life is hard here. When we drove to Peterhof and had left the historical center of the city, we came to the apartments that were built in the 70s...and goodness, they were horrific. And there were so many of them! That was the only places I saw at all where one could live. No houses...just these apartments that were completely run down and dilapidated. Some new ones had been put up and it was such a stark contrast because the new and the usual...this is where these people who pass me on the street live...this is where they suffered in the past..this is where they dream of better futures. And yet walking down Nevsky Prospekt, every woman wore high heels, had great fashion sense, and looked wealthier than most people on semester at sea. There were so many intersecting lines...and I still don't understand it all.

A couple days ago, perhaps on Thursday, Helena and I talked about a top five list of the things that were either surprising us the most or what we would take away with us from Russia. What I had come up was almost the same as now:

1. Traffic: We were told before coming into St. Petersburg that we must be especially careful in Russia crossing the streets, pedestrians do NOT have the right of way and accidents are our greatest threat. Russians drive FAST and pretty recklessly. I had several close calls, as did most people. Even in DC and New York I never felt like my life was in danger everytime I crossed the street. And the worst part is there aren't many actual crosswalks or lights...we would get stuck in the middle of the road with cars going 60mph right past us...trust me, no exaggerations are needed. In the states, its comparable to crossing a highway, one would NEVER think of doing such a thing....and of standing in the middle of the road! If we cross, we cross when we know we can get to the other side. Not here. So if you ever go to Moscow or St. Petersburg, be extremely careful and prepared.
2. Police: Like I said before, all the polls have said that the police are the least trusted group in society. We were told that it would not be unlikely that police would randomly stop us, see our documents, and take our money. People who have lived in St. Petersburg have had these incidents and it's not unusual. The joke is that when a policeman stops you instead of saying can I see your documents, he will say, can I see your money. Most Russians can get out of anything (or perhaps they did not commit a crime at all) by bribing the policeman. It's pretty widespread. Everytime I passed a policeman, I crossed my fingers he would not approach me. We would stop talking so he didn't hear we were American, and just tried to blend in as much as possible. But the presence of the police was ubiquitous. The police, those in the military, were EVERYWHERE. And truth to tell, they were scary. We saw more people in the army and what have you than the police themselves....and honestly, they looked like Nazis. There would be a group of about twenty guys dressed in army uniforms (that looked like Nazi uniforms almost precisely) on every block or so...and they would just STARE YOU DOWN when you passed. And on the streets, there would be the trucks I have only seen in movies...it really looked like the place was occupied. That's the feeling I had. Like I had to protect myself, stay away from the policeman, truly...anyone in uniform. It was a very different atmopshere, one that I've never been accustomed to and very disconcerting.
3. Mullet: On a more lighter note, the mullet was everywhere! Every single guy (well, least 3 out of every 5) had a mullet! It was really interesting.,...I had never seen the mullet that much in my life.
4. Scowl...clearly...already noted...
5. Pastels: The architecture, the colors of the buildings were so light and wonderful! Every building in the downtown area of St. Petersburg was a masterpiece in itself. Unlike Norway, which had vibrant, stark colors, St. Petersburg was a city of pastels, of light yellows and blues and greens. It was lovely.
And I would love to write more but I really must go to bed....we gain an hour of sleep tonight..thank goodness but I'm so exhuasted, I've gotten very little sleep the past few days and can no longer stay up.....I have much more to write.....thank you to everyone who is reading...

2008-07-06T07:57:00.001-04:00

RUSSIA

2008-07-06T07:46:00.002-04:00

Oh St. Petersburg, how you have exhuasted me so! You were like a beautiful person who I could not stop staring at and yet when you spoke, so many times you were harsh. But through time, we warmed up to each other and we depart as friends. A couple hours ago, I sat in a cafe that I often frequented, with pastel pink walls and lows ceilings...with sweet tempered Russian women who spoke little english, but could understand our thankfulness...and I began to reflect on my time here spent in Russia. There were instances of immense frustration, almost always followed by the eureka exclamations of a deeper cultural understanding. Five days was just the right amount of time to see all the major landmarks but also explore the lesser known areas of the city. Without a doubt, my most rewarding experiences were those spent with the locals. And ironically, my worst moments were those spent with locals.
On Tuesday morning, we woke early as in Norway, but instead of seeing quaint sea villages in Scandanavia, we saw an excess of industrial areas....a lot of trash, a lot of just unpleasantness. It was not the best first impression of Russia. But when we docked in St. Petersburg, the view was what we had waited for. But getting of the ship was very different than in Norway. Some unlucky SASers waited in line for two and a half hours to get through customs...luckily I only waited for about a half an hour. And then I was free to explore Vasilyevsky Island, where we are docked. It is the largest island in the Neva delta and is home to St. Petersburg University, where I belive Putin himself went (double check me on that one...I may be totally wrong). There are also a number of museums scattered throughout the island, but most of the main tourist spots are on the other side of St. Petersburg. At night, most people stayed on the island because the bridges close to pedestrians and open so bridges can go through. So, if you're stuck on the other side, you're stuck there till 5am! And the metro stops at midnight, so that's not an option. Luckily, there were plenty of bars and places on Vasilyevsky Island....it could be a city all on its own.

My recommendations for Vasilyevsky Island: St. Andrews Cathedral: This was one of the first places I went to in Russia. It has a beautiful, pink exterior and is one of the smaller churches in the city and was built in 1780. Not many tourists enter...there was a Russian woman clearly yelling at a tourist who had come in to take a photo (whereas in the major churches, cameras are flinging every which way). One of the interesting things about the churches is that they were used for other things during the Soviet times. Some of the most brillant churches were turned into swimming pools, skating rinks...truly, the most bizarre of things. It's a miracle so many of the churches and cathedrals were saved. As someone who was raised in the Greek Orthodox Church, seeing the churches was filled with spiritual and emotional experiences. I don't consider myself very religious, and in fact, I connect more with Eastern religion than Christianity. But...the beauty is just breathtaking and it felt so very familiar to me. I made it a point to kiss many of the icons in the places I visited.
Twelve Colleges: These were also some of the very first few glimpses of St. Petersburg that I had. Over about 1200 feet, there's an unbroken line of identical red buildings. When they were constructed in 1742, they were first used for governmental purposes. But now, they are a part of St. Petersburg University. How I would love to be a student to use these buildings! Definitely make it a point to see these, they're lovely.
Sredny and Bolshoy Prospekt: These seem to be the two major roads filled with kafes, bars, and lots of stores. But the main attractions are across the Neva and this is where one should spend most of their time (the order in which I saw them):

Tueday, July 1: After I explored Vasilyevsky Island, I had to return to the ship for a semester at sea trip for my anthropology of religion course. The itinerary was changed a little bit because of how long customs took....we ended up leaving a half hour later but we still got to see much. Our first stop was a synagogue and I don't recall the name but it won't be hard to find...there's only one synagogue in the whole city but it's said to be one of the most beautiful in all of Europe. I was struck by the vibrant brownish red and tan horizontal stripes on the exterior. But inside was even better: the main section was a lemon yellow with white frames and some sky blue in other areas. There was a lot of Arabic influences with the architecture inside, which was interesting to see. My favorite part was inside of the wedding chappel, a very small room off to the side. We had the sweetest tour guide who spoke great english, and at the end she showed us a rather large bulletin filled with pictured of none other than Mr. Bush who supposedly visited the synagogue when he was last in St. Petersburg? It seemed kind of random...we didn't really know why he went. The next stop was St. Nicholas Cathedral. After St. Andrews, this was my second church to see in Russia and it was just as lovely. It was also built in the eighteenth century but unlike the other churches, it had marked off areas for those worshipping. I was tempted to cross the line and kiss some more icons and I should have, but instead stayed behind with the other tourists. Oh well. For those who are not familiar with Orthodox Christianity, the services are extremely long and for the most part, we stand the entire time. In Russia, none of the churches even have pews. The main element of the Orthodox church are the icons and the iconostasis at the front of the interior. This is always the loveliest section of the building. In a nutshell, the iconostasis is basically a wall filled with icons, with a door in the middle that leads to the altar, where only the priests and altar boys can enter. On the right of the door, there is always an icon of Jesus Christ and on the left, always ghe Virgin Mary. Typcically, to the right of Jesus there is an icon of the patron saint of the church. In the Orthodox Church, there is a definite mysticism that is alive which is lacking in most other Christian denominations. It is what I love about the Orthodoxy....religion is more spiritual and tied to the soul. I'm clearly biased, but in my opinion there is so much more emotion and feeling involved here. St. Nicholas's Cathedral was very nice, but you may only need to see the outside, which has a beautiful blue exterior and five golden domes and is a prime example of Russian baroque architecture. We then went on to St. Issac's Cathedral: St. Isaac's is without a doubt, the most beautiful church I have ever been in. First of all, its huge! In St. Petersburg, it is the second tallest landmark, after the Cathedral of Peter and Paul. One can see the cathedral from almost any area...it became a meeting point for my friends and I because it's so easy to find. It's been turned into a museum, and tourists can even go up to the colonnade where there are views of the city ( I didn't do this, but some of my friends did and said it wasn't particularly worth it..a lot of views of construction). But what words can aptly describe the beauty of the interior? The green and yellow colors of the iconostasis are so vibrant! And the ceiling is stunning. I took videos of the ceiling itself. So spectacular. Just take a look at my pictures....they will express the wonder so much better than my words can!
After we toured St. Isaac's, I decided to stay there longer and let the rest of the SAS group go ahead without me...I had planned to meet some friends. I love to people watch, so for about a half an hour I sat outside on the steps (as many Russians do) and just observe the passerbys. When I finally met them, we walked back to the ship, first stopping to take a couple pictures of The Bronze Horsemen: This is the famous monument to Peter I, named after Pushkin's famous poem. Supposedly it took the artist Falconet over fifteen years to create this. But honestly, it's just a statue of Peter the Great, on a horse, with a serpent underneath. So, not such an amazing sight. But definitely important to the city, and very close to the Admiralty and Hermitage, so one will most likely pass it.

Wednesday, July 2 Wednesday we woke up pretty early and decided to head out to the Hermitage . From our ship, its about a 40 minute walk. Right in front of the Hermitage is the Dvortsovaya ploshchad: Also known as the Palace Square, this huge space in front of the Winter Palace is somewhat overwhelming with its size. The line to the Hermitage usually starts in the square, and in the center there's the Alexander Column, which is the tallest in the world. Opposite of the Winter Palace is the Arch of the General Staff, which is pretty cool. Tuesday night, when we were making our way back to Vasilyevsky Island, we walked through the Palace Square and saw hundreds of policeman lined up with their cars in front of the Winter Palace. It was very odd and you could tell that the passerby tourists had no idea what was going on...my friend and I saw some SASers who had some fun with me, saying that some guy j walked and then ran off with a painting. I believed them. Ha, oh well. But truly, the square looked so much more impressive with those hundreds of policemen, but also a tad foreboding.
The Hermitage: If you go one place in St. Petersburg, make it the Hermitage. With more than 1,000 rooms and 60,000 works on view (from a collection of 3 million) the Hermitage is said to be not the best art collection in the world but not the second best either (according to wikipedia, it holds the Guinness World Record as having the world's largest colleciton of paintings). Several buildings make up the Hermitage: the Winter Palace (1767), which was the home of the tsars and is possibly the most extravagant place I have ever seen, the Hermitage Theater (1787), and the Small (1767), Big (1787), and the New(1852) Hermitage. You can't miss these buildings...not only are they huge but the green exterior is remarkably noticeable from anywhere on the Neva. One cannot help but be mesmorized. Wednesday morning, I made my way to the Hermitage and waited in line for at least an hour. If you ever intend to go, expect to wait. When it finally opened and we entered the building, it was pretty chaotic to get a ticket. People had said Russians may just cut others in line, and we definitely saw a lot of that. But it was all worth it when we passed through the security. The art was fantastic! So much! There was Leonardo and Raphael, Gaughin, and Picasso, Monet, Cezanne, and many others. What really surprised me was the amount of Greek and Roman art they had, more than any I had seen from museums in the states. But without a doubt, my favorite part was the palace rooms....so insanely beautiful. The ceilings were my favorite part...I don't know how much space on my memory card was taken from pictures of the ceilings alone. Such intricate designs in every place...On one hand, I was so grateful to be in the presence of such an incredible environment...but on the other hand, it was kind of disgusting that some would spend that much money on aesthetics and palaces when it could have been distributed in other ways. Oh well, I should have taken that up with Catherine the Great back in the day. There was no way to see everything in the museum...my advice would be to find out where the artists you enjoy are, and hit those sections. Most of the rooms are bombarded with people and tour groups...which made the viewing process a little hectic. But then I would find myself alone in other rooms...how peaceful those moments were! Standing in front of Matisse all by myself...just the colors and I...wonderful.
Nevsky Prospekt: After spending hours in the Hermitage, we made our way to the hub of St. Petersburg, practically the fifth avenue of the city, which is Nevsky Prospekt. Nikolai Gogol, the Russian author I previously quoted, once wrote "There is nothing more beautiful than Nevsky Prospekt!" I don't know if I would agree with him, but it's definitely a place to go. So many shops and resturants, it seemed to me to be the busiest place in the city, each time I walked on the street.
Cathedral of our Lady of Kazaan: This is one of the places where if you're not interested in the inside of the Orthodox Churches, the outside will peak your interest. One will be walking along Nevsky Prospekt and then all of a sudden see this incredible semi circular colonnade, similar to that of St. Peter's in Rome. The columns are huge! Inside was nowhere near as impressive as St. Isaac's but still rather large and a unique iconostasis.

Church of the Resurrection (or Split Blood): From the Cathedral of our Lady Kazaan, we crossed Nevsky Prospekt and walked along the canal towards the magnificent Church of the Resurrection. This is the Russia I wanted to see and had always envisioned: the neo Russian style. Whenever I see pictures of this church or similar ones, it always reminds me of fairy tales or some other world..I can't even imagine what I would think if I saw this as a child..it would either terrify me or I would just think it was the most magical place ever. It just doesn't look real! Unfortunately, the inside was closed on wednesday so I didn't get to go inside :(. But just seeing it was a great experience. There was a woman singing opera right outside which made the atmosphere all the more special. Here's an interesting fact: it's known as the Church of Split Blood because it was built in the same spot that Tsar Alexander II was killed by a bomb in 1881. Right next to the Church are the Mikhalovsky Gardens, which served as a nice oasis and provided some much needed shade.
Souvenirov rynok: Also right next to the Church of Split Blood is a great market area, where I bought my chapka and matriochka dolls! All the people working spoke some english which was great and enabled me to have some fun conversations. They had all the touristy necessities...probably some 30-50 stalls. Fun place!

Thursday, July 3 We didn't do too much this day...the first thing my friend Helena and I did was go to an internet cafe to upload some photos and check email. After returning to the ship, we decided to head out to the Russian Museum, where I wanted to go the most. To get here, we walked along a canal which took us right near Church of Split Blood. Walking through the M. gardens, we came to the Russian Museum, which is in the Mikhailovsky Palace. Being a palace, there were some absolutely beautiful rooms but I enjoyed the artwork the most (perhaps the opposite of Hermitage), which was very avant garde. The artwork was organized very well..there was a definite coherence from painting to painting, room to room. The majority of paintings I had never seen prints of or even heard of the artists, so I learned a lot! By the time we got out, we were pretty hungry but stopped first at Gostiny Dvor, which is a shopping arcade on Nevsky Prospekt. It was a really interesting place...it was as if there was one long room like an alleyway and there was no formal separation of the stores...they just went one after the other. But among the stores, there were categories. So, all the furs were in one location, all the shoes stores in another, etc. We didn't really find anything worth buying. By this time, we were starving. I had read about a cafe called Idiot (after Dostoevsky's novel ) in one of my tour guides and had been meaning to go. It was close to St. Issac's Cathedral so we made the trek over but it was totally work the walk...the decor was really cool! It was in like a basement and really cozy...I could have spent hours there. For lunch, I had a blini with fruits (I only really had blinis) which was excellent. When we got back to the ship, we hung out for a few hours and then went out later to find some bars. We went to this chill spot with a middle eastern decor...I decided to get a hookah while almost everyone else took absinthe shots (illegal in the states). I took a little sip and it was the strongest alcohol I've ever tasted...everyone who did the shots had tears running down their faces...after you're done with the whole process. We got back to the ship around three and I fell asleep immediately.

Friday, July 4 My alarm clock came all to suddenly but once rational thought kicked in I remembered today was the day we were going to Peterhof! Peterhof was my favorite place in all of Russia. It was about an hour drive (a very interesting one, which I'll describe later) and was incredibly packed with tour buses when we arrived. Unfortunately, we found out we wouldn't have much time seeing the palace and grounds, which was a bummer. If I could go again, I would stay at Peterhof for hours, just walking around the gardens. Peterhof was the summer residence of Peter I and is known as the Russian response to Versailles. Very famous for its fountains in particular. The first thing we did was quickly tour the palace, which honestly, was like any other. I'm glad I saw it, but it's not necessary. I wish I could have had more time to be outside! It's simply glorious...the grounds are extremely elegant. Just stunning....no picture can do justice to this place. I didn't get to explore everything, so I'm not quite sure how large it really is. But it's pretty extensive. The really interesting part is that Peterhof was completely destroyed by the Nazis during WWII. During the 50s, they reconstructed the whole thing again based off of maps, documents, etc. It's really sickening to think of people who would want to destroy such beauty.
When we got back to the ship, I relaxed a little and then went out to meet my friend Momoko in the evening. We went to Idiot once again and then returned only to go out again for some nightlife. After a couple hours of running around Vasilyevsky Island and trying to find a good place, we all settled on this little bar right on the Neva, that even had a small dance floor and karaoke, which we took full advantage of. It was really cool to see the bridges open into the air, we had been waiting to see that but had never been close to the river when it happened (or we had stayed in and were already asleep). After fully exhuasting ourselves, we returned to the ship and went to bed. Today (saturday) has largely been spent doing some last minute errands and shopping. It's almost 8pm and everyone is on the ship. For dinner we celebrated the fourth of july with a bbq...we had a bunch of American flags on the side of the ship..I can only imagine what the Russians were thinking (needless to say, there was a lot of noise too).

Norway continued

2008-06-29T18:31:00.004-04:00

On thursday the 26th, I spent the day in Norway's countryside. It was everything I imagined it to be: awe inspiring and impressive. In the morning we walked from the pier to the railway station and boarded a train for about two hours that took us to Myrdal. Almost everyone around me was sleeping and even though I was exhuasted, there was no way I could shut my eyes. The scenary was too fantastic to ignore. I could sleep later. When we arrived in Mydral, we started our hike down a valley to Berekvam station. My friend Momoko and I made it a point to walk with the first guide, so that we could see the landscape from the best viewpoint (with no one in front of us). Our guide was so sweet and we enjoyed her company very much. As we walked downhill, we passed waterfalls and were surrounded by mountains. There was still snow in some areas. The most amazing feature was the waterfalls on the side of the mountains, they were just incredible! And the water was the clearest I've ever seen...you could see everything in the streams. Our guide recommended trying the water and we were not disappointed....fresh indeed! At one point we encountered a goat farm and took the opportunity to have a break from the walking. There were probably about 60 goats, all of which were very sweet tempered. We continued walking and I tried to take in as much as I could....I couldn't imagine a healthier, more pure location. Clearly, nothing existed beyond this...it felt like an entirely different world. And yet I felt as if I had been there many times...it was a natural connection between myself the environment, but of course there is nothing like this in the states. If I could, I would walk our hike every day....and I think I would be a better person for it. When there's such beauty, it's almost unfathomable to think of all the pain in the world....
I had the same sensation as we crossed the Atlantic. Feeling completely isolated was peaceful....the world was so large but here, there was nothing but us and the waves....
When we got to Berekvam station it was only a few minutes until we reached Flam, where we had a buffet lunch waiting for us at the Fretheim hotel. We only stayed there for a little bit, and then boarded a bus which took us up the Stalheim Canyon. Apparently, the road was built in the mid 1800s. And we all held our breath as the bus continued up the steep canyon, making more than 10 extremely tight turns. Thank God for the talent of our bus driver...the view from the top was breathtaking....
After the canyon, we continued driving through the countryside, passing waterfalls and various lakes. We stopped in the town of Voss, which was having some sort of "extreme" sports festival. Most people went to check that out but I just walked along the streets, peeking into a few shops here and there. Overall, Thursday was my most enjoyable day in Norway. The landscape of Norway, the fjords especially, are just fantastic. If any nature lovers are reading this, GO TO NORGE! You won't be disappointed...it will be your paradise.
When we returned to Bergen, we decided to go out to the bars later that night, seeing as it was the last night in Norway (we had to be on the ship friday evening around 6-7). Besides alcohol being extremely expensive, I ran into other problems. Being one of the youngest on the ship, most of my friends are at least a year or two to three years older. And surprsingly, in Norway, most bars are 20 and up. There didn't seem to be any official law regarding drinking age, for I was was able to get into three different places we tried and had no problem buying beer or a cocktail. But the majority of the bars and clubs were off limits for me, which also made it difficult for my friends if I was with them. One of the nice things about the nightlife was that it didn't get dark until way after 11pm. Even as I write this, on route to Russia, it is 10pm and still completely bright out.
Friday was a pretty relaxing day but also a very rainy and gray one. It rained off and on during our stay in Norway, but Friday was the only day it seemed to have been overpowered by stormy clouds. So, I took this opportunity to see the art collection at the Bergen Art Museum and stayed there for a good hour (it's pretty small, an hour is perhaps all one needs). Three highlights for me were:
-the Nikolai Astrup collection
-the J.C. Dahl collection
-various Russian Orthodox icons

Before Bergen, I had never heard of Nikolai Astrup so his work was a wonderful surprise! Born in 1880, Astrup was known for "depicting nature in a characteristically intimate way, loading the pictures with mystery and symbolic content." Some of his best works included in the collection include "Birthday Party in the Garden," "Mother and Child by a table in the garden," "Clear night in June," "Morning in March," and "Kari-Motif from Sunde." There was also some Munchs there, which was great because I didn't have a chance to travel to Oslo to see "The Scream."
More widely known is the work of J.C. Dahl, who was born in Bergen in 1788. Known as the father of Norwegian painting, he is famous for his romantic landscapes. Personally, I did not enjoy his work as much as Astrup's, but was still very grateful to see his pieces. There was also a section dedicated to some Russian Orthodox icons, which was great to see. It also puzzled me as to why Norwegians would have them...I never did find out my answer...oh well, was happy they were there. The rest of the day was spent meandering around the city, but most of it I had already explored. One really doesn't need to have an extended stay in Bergen. Although quaint, a tourist can see most of the highlights in a day or two.
I was really happy to have spent my first port stay in Norway. The two major things I will remember is how beautiful the scenary is, and how expensive everything was. As I expected, I routinely encountered negative American sentiments, from a wide variety of people. Some Norwegians were extremely rude and most thought Americans supported Bush. Of course, I tried to persuade them otherwise.
So that was Norway! After four days, I was exhuasted. Yesterday and today we resumed classes, but tommorrow is Russia day, which will be filled with various lectures about Russian politics, culture, and language (the theme of this trip is Russia's relationship with Europe, so our global studies class is basically a Russian history course. All we have been reading since we arrived on the ship was about Russia, all the movies are Russian or about WWII, etc. I have learned more about the country of Russia in the past two weeks than I have my whole life). We had our cultural preport tonight and our logistical preport is tommorrow at 2000. Upon leaving Norway, I found out that our interport lecturer is none other Masha Lipman, a Washington Post contributer from Russia. This spring, I had actually read her articles! I couldn't believe it! I distinctly remember reading an article she had written called "Putin's Puppet Press" which aroused my curiosity. Here is a short bio:

Maria (or Masha) Lipman is the editor of the journal Pro et Contra, which is published by Carnegie Moscow Center and was co-founder of Itogi, the first news weekly magazine in Russia. Itogi was published in cooperation with the American news weekly Newsweek. It was part of Russia's first privately owned media group "Media-MOST," which was shut down by the government in 2001. That same year Ms. Lipman co-founded and became deputy editor of the news weekly magazine Ezhedel'ny zhurnal, which was published until 2003. Ms. Lipman has worked as a translator,researcher and contributor for The Washington Post Moscow bureau. She has had a monthly op-ed column on Russian politics, media and society in The Washington Post since 2001. She has contributed to numerous publications and has been featured as an expert in many international broadcast venues.

She actually came into my women in cross cultural perspectives class which was great. I better be off, but I would like to leave with a quote from the famous Russian writer Gogol's letter to a friend:
This is how you should make your voyage: first of all get out of your head all your opinions on Russia, whatever they may be: repudiate any conclusions that you have already drawn; present yourself knowing exactly nothing....
After you have arrived in the chief town or a disrict or province, strive to get to know the sights. They are not in architectural works and antiquities but in people. I swear to you that a man is worth being considered with greater curiosity than a factory or a ruin. Only endeavor to look for him with a drop of brotherly love and you will not be able to tear yourself away from him, he will appear so interesting to you."
-N. Gogol, in a letter to a friend.
________________________________

Norge

2008-06-26T08:22:00.003-04:00

My room resided in darkness in the early hours of yesterday morning. All was quiet as the ship rocked side to side, mingling with the waves beneath. And then, in a minute that came all too soon (at least I thought so at first), my alarm clock sounded, the rather unpleasant sound meeting with my groggy mind, having a not so nice conversation. But then, my mind made sense of the circumstance and realized...we are coming into Norway! The idea of five-twenty am quickly disappeared and was replaced by something much more agreeable...the thought of seeing my first european country. I quickly raced to get ready...running up to the decks...surprised at seeing I was one of many who were also up. Maybe two hundred of the students were awake, along with many of the teachers and life learners, and we stood together as we stared at the Norwegian coast, admiring the quaint sea towns. I don't remember a time I was this giddy. The excitement steadily increased as we became closer to Bergen, and when I saw the city...oh, I couldn't believe it...how beautiful, it was everything I thought it would be...the seven hills of Bergen cradled the colorful houses...the city seemed its own world, a real utopia...

Bergen is the second largest city of Norway, with is a country of about four and a half million citizens. Historically, Norway was a very poor county, but upon finding oil, Norge has become one of the wealthiest countries in the world. This is a nation that takes care of its citizens to the fullest. Taxes are very high, but goodness, the Norwegians have basically everything! If you ever go to Norway, be prepared. Everything is incredibly expensive. For example, at every bar, do not be surprised to find the CHEAPEST beer to be about ten dollars. Just for ONE beer. All of the semester at sea students (including myself) have found this out the hard way. Another example: the new coldplay album came out when I was on the ship crossing the Atlantic and I made it a point to buy the album the first day in Norway. I found a really cute music store and decided to see if they had it. Ironically, the cd was playing overhead as I walked in. But, it was almost $34!! For those interested, Norwegians use the kroner as their currency. One kroner is about $5. So the cd was like, 169 kroner. In the states, I could get this for $10. See the difference? Pretty remarkable, eh? But we all knew Norway would be super expensive...in our preport meetings, we were warned. However, I remember hearing, perhaps on NPR, that oil in Norway/Sweden costs about $14....I think they were comparing it to our $5 crisis...Interestingly enough, I haven't seen one gas station.
Once we got off the ship, we walked about five minutes to the main part of Bergen, where amongst other things, the UNESECO world heritage site of Bryggen is. Along the harbor, they are a row of Hanseatic timberered houses, which have been rebuilt after a fire in the early 18th century. There are workshops and various stores now, even some restuarants. But they are absolutely beautiful.

After we passed Bryggen, my friends and I went to Floibanen, the station where the funicular heads up Mount Floien, which is one of the seven hills of Bergen and provides tourists with a breathtaking view of the city below. It was perhaps the best way to start off the trip. If there was one downside, it would have been the weather....it rained off and on yesterday but luckily, we were able to take some photos before it started to pour. After walking around a little more, my companions had to return to the ship for some tours so I decided to continue exploring on my own. I have ALWAYS taken the greatest pleasure at discovering places by myself....and for a little more than an hour, that is just what I did. Being taken as a Norwegian many times, I mentally patted myself on the back for passing as a non-American (which, even in America, happens a lot...especially in the past year, many foreigners had thought I was also from Europe). Honestly, I could not tell you which streets I went on...I just walked and wandered, pretending as if Bergen were indeed my home. I will say that every street is so lovely...they are the streets I always dream of and search for in the states but never find....they are streets of history...........
I did explore the Fisketorget, also known as the Fish market, which is in the center of the town. If you are a seafood lover, I can't imagine any place that's better than here. There's everything...it's really intense. All the people offer fish...I myself had salmon a couple times from different vendors, but that's all. Many people had tried whale and said it was really good....but no whale...so anti that....today when we went back, I tried caviar. I think it's safe to say that was a one time tasting experience. I had also stumbled into the Bergen bus station, on the other side of the Lile Lungegardvann, which is a pretty large fountain (they call it a lake..clearly not a lake...but oh well). The bus station had a lot of stores which I perused through...I also bought some food...I was starving. Then, I met my roommate at Bryggen and we went to a little cafe, which we discovered had wi fi!!!! I have been there three times already....it has been sooo convenient. We proceeded onto seeing Mariakirke, or St. Mary's Church, which is the oldest building in Bergen, dating from about the early 12th century. It was nice inside, but ultimately, not that impressing. Either was the Bryggen museum, which we went to after. They had three exhibitions, we particularly enjoyed the one on witches. But I wouldn't necessarly recommend it....
Bergen is very small and easy to get around. It truly is a charming town, with friendly (almost all blonde haired, blue eyes) people. Just about everyone speaks English, which was no surprise to me, but nice. We are in the white nights region, which meant that the sun did not set until after 11pm....it was great! I was wearing sunglasses at 9pm! I had talked to a lot of Norwegians about which bars and places to go to...(yes, we want to go out on a tuesday night ,we told them) but since I am not even 19 yet (aug 7!!), it was difficult finding places that wouldnt let anyone older than 20 in, which was kind of shocking. After searching for about an hour, we found a cute bar that didn't card so we stayed for awhile, drinking our ridiculously expsensive beer (four of us shared one because we did not want to spend that money). The other negative part was the bar was pretty much taken over by SAS kids...every bar was. There were some Norwegians, but not many. We eventually stumbled back onto the ship after 12, there was really no point at staying out later. I fell asleep immediately but this morning came rushing just like the day before. After eating breakfast, my friends and I went through the fish market again, and found a bus station to take us to Troldhaugen and the Fantoft Stavkirke. Even though Bergen is not a large city by any means, it felt so refreshing to get into the countryside!! I loved it!! At Troldhaugen, we went to Edvard Grieg's summer home, which is on Lake Nordas. It was a charming Victorian home and a very romantic setting. I would recommend seeing this home...it's a nice excursion which won't take that long once you arrive (it is about a 10-15 minute walk from the bus station, but a pleasant one at that). After, we got on another bus and went to see the Fantoft Stavkirk, which is a stave church, something I had never really heard of before doing research on Norway. A funny story though before I write about our the church itself. When we got on the bus, we realized that the bus driver charged us more than what it was to originally go form Bergen to Troldhaugen...and yet we were at Troldhaugen, wanting to go about two stops to the stave church..and then when he dropped us off, we thought he stopped at another church, one we didn't want to go to. Luckily, we realized that he had indeed taken us to the right place, but I think he made a nice little profit off of us Americans (or perhaps not). So, back to the church. Apparently, in the middle ages, there were about 750 stave churches in Norway, but only 30 are still standing. What we sw was originally constructed in 1150 but was moved to Fantoft in 1883. Unfortunately, the church burned down in the early 90s when some guy set fire to it (he's in jail, 20 year sentence)...so this is an exact duplication of the original. I did not go inside the church, but took many pictures and admired from the outside. If you're ever in Bergen, DEFINITELY go there...architecturally, its one of the most interesting buildings I've ever seen. After coming back, we did some window shopping and talking with locals. My good from Momoko and I had the most interesting conversation with a woman named Jorid (pronounced you-wi-din, means beautiful horse). She was working at this very small household decoration store, probably in her mid to late twenties. At first, we talked to her about gender relations in Norwegian, and then I talked to her about the current state of the economy in the US as well as Bush and the campaign. I was prepared to proove to her that Americans too, think Bush is, excuse my language, a dumb ass. I hate to end of that note, but I'm thorougly exhuasted. Tommorrow I'm going on a SAS trip, called Norway in a Nutshell. I will go to the villages of Flam and Voss and maybe a few others. I'm looking forward to seeing waterfalls!!!! It should be wonderful. If you would like to see pictures, here are some public links:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002815&l=f0ab1&id=1084770089 <http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002815&l=f0ab1&id=1084770089>
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2002823&l=65b4c&id=1084770089 You may or may not be able to see these videos: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1010048926550 http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1010048686544 Enjoy them! I'll definitely write soon again!

2008-06-21T06:44:00.001-04:00

Hello all! I thought I would take this opportunity to provide the addresses of the places where I can recieve mail, if anyone reading would like to send something :). The US Post Office recommends sending international mail at least two weeks in advance and no packages. I won't include Norway or Russia seeing as the suggested airmail dates have already passed.

Denmark: July 8-11 MAERSK BROKER AGENCY 1, Midtermolen DK-2100 Copenhagen, Denmark suggested airmail date: June 24

Antwerp, Belgium: July 14-17 ANTWERPEN PORT SERVICE COMPANY Handboogstraat 20 2030 Antwerp, Belgium suggested airmail date: June 30

Naples, Italy: July 23-26 KLINGENBERG SRL Pizzale Stazione Marittima Inteno Porto Napoli 80133 Naples. Italy sad: july 9

Istanbul, Turkey: July 29-Aug1 I.T.S. Buyukdere cad. Kaya Aldogan sok. 12/1 International Travel Services 80300 Zincirlikuyu, Istanbul, Turkey sad: july 15

Piraeus, Greece Aug 03-6 ISS Cruise Services 55 Polydefkous Street Piraeus 18545, Greece sad: July 21

Dubrovnik, Croatia Aug8-10 ATLANTAGENT Obala Stjepana Radica 26 P.O. Box 40 HR-20000 Dubrovnik, Croatia sad: July 25

Based on Eastern Standard time, here are the different times:
Norway +6 Russia +8 Denmark +6 Belgium +6 Italy +6 Turkey +7 Greece +7 Croatia +7

Right now we're four hours ahead already...I believe tomorrow night we move ahead, and then monday night another hour passes. I'm finally getting used to ship life...I don't get that seasick anymore...I think the bands really do work. And the weather has been considerably nicer...still chilly, though. Tommorrow we have the day off which EVERYONE is happy about and a talent show during the evening. Then only two more days until Bergen! I already know that I'm doing one SAS trip on Thursday, the 26th:
Norway in a Nutshell with Hike: Start the day with a short transfer from the pier to the railway station in Bergen. Travel on the Bergen line for about two hours through green and fertile land to the village of Voss, beautifully situated by a lake. From here take the train into the mountains. Start the hiking tour at Myrdal station, hiking down the valley, walking on paths in the hillside, following a stream. Walk downhill for about two hours until reaaching Berekvam station. Here, board another train and travel for 30 minutes until reaching the village of Flam. In Flam, walk a short distance from the station to the Fretheim hotel for a late lunch.
After lunch, board a motorcoach and travel through the tunnel to the village of Gudvangen. Continue up the steep Stalheim Canyon. The coach follows old Stalheimskleiva road that was built in 1842-49. The road is very steep, with thirteen sharp, hairpin bends. Pass several waterfalls, including Sivelfossen Waterfall, which has a freefall of 240 meters. The road travels along Oppheim Lake and further on to the Tvinde to see the magnificent Tvinde waterfall. Continue to Voss and Dale before returning to the ship.
I know A LOT of people going on this...I can't wait. Tonight I'm going to plan the rest of the days. We had thought to travel to Oslo but after finding out that would take 8 hours on a train, we decided that staying in Bergen would probably be better. Will update later!
Oh, ps...here is the link to the position report! http://www.semesteratsea.org/voyages/current-voyage/summer-2008-position-report.php

"Through travel I first became aware of the outside world." -Eudora Welty

2008-06-18T06:51:00.002-04:00

I am now writing from the MV Explorer, straight from the bumpy bunk bed of my cabin! The past few days have been filled with introductions and orientations, greetings and meetings, and unfortunately, an undesirable amount of fog. But all is well, despite the occasional queasiness (which I’m determined to believe is a result of my own mind thinking I should feel sick rather than the sea actually causing it). With that said, I still wear my sea wrist bands proudly and I am actually thinking of seeking out some ginger. I suppose I should start from the start, when I first embarked on Sunday. Upon entering the ship, I was a tad taken off guard by everything…it seemed like a maze getting to my room! I must confess, when I opened the door to the cabin, I was shocked by the small size of the super economy triple I had signed up for. Compared to the normal rooms, our cabin is pretty tiny (and also much closer to the front of the ship…not good for seasickness). However, now that we’ve been settled for a couple of days, the room has taken on somewhat of a cozy feel…and personally, I think it’s kind of romantic in a sense to have a smaller room. There’s something wonderful about living in a bit austere and plain quarters when most everyone else has nicer rooms. More than that, it feels more adventurous and exciting to be in a setting that is not very luxurious, like staying in a hostel versus a hotel. More liberating, I think.
So after I got settled in, my lovely mother came on the ship for visiting hours and we walked around, observing as much as we could. After she left (and made her long journey back to Addison, Maine…thank you again for coming ! J ) we had a lifeboat drill which was kind of dull….as most drills tend to be. What else did we do? It’s kind of hard to remember…so many things have happened. Oh yes, my roommate Helena reminds me (isn’t that funny…we basically have the same name) that when we finally departed everyone went outside on the decks to wave to, well…random people in Halifax I suppose…actually, it was probably some parents who stayed behind for an extra two hours (we departed late). But by the time I got out, there was only some sailboats to wave to. Afterwards we all had an orientation in the union, which is the main auditorium in the ship (also where the mandatory Global studies course takes place) and then a “seas”orientation…I’m in the “yellow seas.”To my understanding, this will be important when we have sea olympics, basically a big competition between all the seas. The first night was pretty difficult to get to sleep…there was a lot of vibrations and I had trouble getting used to that. Yesterday the entire day was filled with more orientations, whether it was about the field office, safety on the ship, or our global studies course, among other things. All in all, a pretty monotonous day, but necessary. Today was the day I had been looking forward to…the first day of classes! I had global studies this morning as well as ritual and belief, and then women in cross cultural perspectives in the afternoon. My professor for both anthropology courses did her fieldwork in India which is perfect! Overall, I enjoyed the classes…there is a lot of reading, but it gives me something to do (there isn’t much on the ship). The food is good…but I’ve taken on some new eating habits…similar to being a vegan…so I’m in a way limiting myself to what’s available. We just found out that we’re allowed to go to Sweden and Serbia as well (and we had found out earlier that we’ll be allowed to go to the Netherlands and Luxembourg) so that pretty much made my day yesterday. So nice! I can’t wait until we cross this Atlantic…we’ll be in Norway in a week. We’ve already moved two hours ahead of Eastern time, and tonight we’re moving ahead a third. I bet now that classes have started things will go quickly. And we have Saturday off…so happy about that!!! I hope the sun comes out soon, we haven’t been seeing her for the past couple days. Well, that’s it for now, I’m off to dinner soon. Talk soon!
-your maritime maiden Elena

Halifax

2008-06-14T16:54:00.002-04:00

Instead of leaving Maine today, my mum and I left early yesterday morning, catching the ferry from St. John, New Brunswick to Digby, Nova Scotia. After a couple hours of driving as well as a couple of hours on the ferry, we arrived to Nova Scotia in the mid afternoon. Then, we drove from Digby to Halifax and checked into our first hotel (since our plans had changed, and we were arriving Friday, we needed to get another room because the Westin was already completely booked). We were exhuasted from a day of traveling but decided to go to a wonderful restaurant called Il Mercato...slightly upscale, but great food (northern italian cuisine). This morning we got an early start and decided to explore downtown Halifax. Walking along Lower and Upper Water Street, we looked through several shops and visited the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. It was a tad disappointing and in my opinion, not worth the $9. It was basically filled with ship models and random remnants from shipwrecks. On the other hand, if you are a Titanic buff like myself (and who isn't after the film??), you will appreciate the section of the museum dedicated to the ship (for example, they have a rescued panel of the grand staircase...the one everyone knows from the movie). After the museum, we found some greek food near the Historic Properties and then proceeded to check in at the Westin. Once we got there, we found that we couldn't check in for another hour, so we parked the car and went to do some further exploring. We found an American Apparel on Queen Street and because of me, spent quite some time buying clothes (I barely brought any with me for the trip). Then we walked up the very cute Clyde Street, filled with fun shops and restaurants and continued on to the Public Gardens. Definitely visit the Halifax Citadel National Historic Site..it's beautiful!
After exploring for about an hour and a half, we walked back to check into the Westin, where I currently am now. My mom just returned from the parents' reception on the ship...so jealous she got to see it before me! Well, the next time I update it will be aboard the MV Explorer...can't wait!

2008-06-12T08:41:00.002-04:00

I'm in disbelief...I leave in only a few days! It doesn't seem real that I'll finally be departing...I imagine it won't truly hit me until I have boarded the ship...Ah! I'm currently in Addison, Maine and will take the ferry from St. John's, New Brunswick to Derby, Nova Scotia early saturday morning. From there I'll drive to Halifax and check in to the Downtown Westin...(I have this odd love affair with hotels so I'm quite excited) and then explore downtown Halifax for awhile. I believe there are some ship activities later on (?) so that should be interesting/fun. These past few weeks have been crazy..I've just found out I will be spending the next year in Bangalore, India and are leaving eleven days after I return from this trip. So I've been running ragged trying to get everything in order...

Time aboard ship

2008-04-27T11:24:00.000-04:00

Based on Eastern Daylight Time - the time on the ship is ahead EDT by the number of hours listed below:

-Norway (+6 Hours)
-Russia (+8 Hours)
-Denmark (+6 Hours)
-Belgium (+6 Hours)
-Italy (+6 Hours)
-Turkey (+7 Hours)
-Greece (+7 Hours)
-Croatia (+6 Hours)

Courses

2008-04-27T11:12:00.002-04:00

I can't believe how close this trip is...I'm almost done with the semester! Here are the courses I know I am taking:

-Global Studies (SEMS 101)
Global Studies is an interdisciplinary course that focuses on the countries visited and is tailored especially to meet the global and comparative approach of Semester at Sea. In addition to providing basic information about the countries on the itinerary, Global Studies also provides a meaningful framework by which to compare data, examine issues, and develop concepts. The theme for the Summer 2008 Global Studies course is “Europe: East and West.”

-ANTH 232Z: Ritual and Belief
This course covers selected topics in the anthropology of religion, focusing upon themes relevant to the countries visited by Semester-at-Sea, but including references to ethnographies of the non-Western world. Key topics include: problems in defining religion cross-culturally; the religious, the aesthetic, the scientific; religious evolution; the religious representation of life, death, sex, morality and gender; the relation between cosmology and magical practice; the work of the symbol in ritual practice; myth and ritual in legitimation of the state; the conflict of faith demands in multicultural society.

-ANTH 239Z: Women in Cross-Cultural Perspective
The term 'woman' suggest that all women everywhere, as a result of inhabiting the same body type, are in some way the same. This course explores the ways in which gender is constructed and social arrangements make the lives of women very different from palce to place. Three main themes will shape the varied data available to us in documenting the lives of women: 1) the evolution of women's status along with sociocultural evolution, from egalitarian foraging societies to the state; 2) the social preoccupation with the female body, including practices controlling menstruation, reproduction, sexuality, and extraordinary modifications of female visibility and appearance, and 3) social action by women to reproduce, manage, manipulate, contest and resist these social strucutres. Specific topics and illustrations of these themes will be drawn from the cultures visited by Semester-at-Sea.

the route!

2008-04-07T17:15:00.000-04:00

2008-03-20T10:29:00.003-04:00

So, this video basically made me cry I am so excited:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Sa58EycmHs

Soulmate

2008-03-03T20:07:00.003-05:00

Another month passes and I find myself closer to the ocean. And yet, for most of February, I was too concerned with the present to contemplate the future...and I felt out of sorts. Usually, it is all I can do to stop thinking about the rest of the world. My mother uses the term "obsessing" and perhaps she is right. But within that is such hope and longing for growth. I want to swim in culture. Still, my upcoming journey seems so surreal, as if it is a dream that continues to visit me and nothing more. But of course I will wake up in the lovely month of June to find my dream smiling at my side. I suppose all I must do is plan for that delightful greeting. Meeting my soulmate...the rest of the world.

not all who wander are lost

2008-02-02T17:10:00.000-05:00

There is wind within me, urging me to move along and see what my imagination envisions. My mind sees endless images of places and people that wait to greet me, that wait to feel my presence..and I theirs'. I want to live a thousand lives in this one where change is my consistency, where I find comfort in the new. At times I feel selfish for all my travel desires but I can't fight this yearning...it is so raw, and yet so basic...like a need for water, I am thirsty, I am ravenous for the road...I spent hours and hours walking through DC today..and I was so content just wandering, just walking, just wondering..about everything. I am aching for this summer, I want to walk everywhere, I want to watch the stars on our ship until I fall asleep beneath them..when I explore my life becomes simpler and yet fuller...I feel more alive when I discover beauty in all of its forms, in every person eye's, in every sound and sight, in each touch and taste. I see beyond the adventures of this summer, I see a path of so many landscapes...as long as I have a pen with me to remember it all, I will never be lost. My love is my map, my pen the compass.

The Itinerary

2008-01-20T11:33:00.000-05:00

June 15 to August 22, 2008(as of November 29, 2007)

Halifax, Nova Scotia: Depart Sunday, June 15 at 1700
Bergen, Norway: Arrive Tuesday, June 24 at 0800-Depart Friday, June 27 at 2300
St.Petersburg, Russia: Arrive Tuesday, July 01 at 0800- Depart Sat, July 05 at 2200
Cophenhagen, Denmark: Arive Tues, July 08 at 0800-Depart Fri, July 11 at 2100
Antwerp, Belgium: Arrive Mon, July 14 at 0800-Depart Thurs, July 17 at 2300
Naples, Italy: Arrive Wed, July 23 at 0800-Depart Sat July 26 at 2200
Istanbul, Turkey: Arrive Tues, July 29 at 0800-Depart Fri, August 01 at 2300
Piraeus, Greece: Arrive Sun, August 03 at 0800-Depart Wed Aug 06 at 2200
Dubrovnik, Croatia: Arrive Fri, August 08 at 0800-Depart Sun, August 10 at 2000
Norfolk, VA: Arrive Friday, August 22 at 0800

the beginning

2008-01-20T11:15:00.000-05:00

Here is a place for me to organize my thoughts, plans, and ideas for traveling overseas this summer. Once I am actually abroad, I will update as often as I can in order to share my experiences with all who are interested in reading. After spending months researching various study abroad programs, I finally decided on semester at sea, an incredible program that will undoubtedly be one of the best experiences of my life. Here was my application essay:

At the heart of my soul, I am a traveler. I have lived my life as an American gypsy, chasing the currents of the wind and embracing the changing landscapes. The painting of my spirit is a myriad of colors, reflecting the different shades of scenery, the varied hues of culture and the diverse tints of towns I have encountered. My hope is that this painting is never finished, that it continues to evolve as I grow and see more of the world. As moving is all I know, my academic goals have always been interwoven into my travel aspirations and I see a career based off of these explorations. There could not be a better program than Semester at Sea to lead me on this path of discovery, both literally and figuratively.
Traveling is the foundation of my future. It is the intrinsic framework of my career goals to which everything else will be built off of. Although my specific profession may change from time to time, I am certain that I want an occupation that embraces and studies cultural diversity. I yearn to develop a global perspective and share these viewpoints with others, perhaps using the media to promote understanding. I cannot promote this understanding until I have become it. Most of all, I want to immerse myself in as many cultures as possible, meeting as many people as possible, and write about these experiences. I long to be inspired at the Steindalsfossen Waterfall in Norway, to be lost in the architecture of St. Petersburg, to be swept off my feet at the “island of love” in Italy, and to feel the kiss of the wind from the side of a traveling ship.
As an anthropology major, we are taught about the importance of fieldwork in our studies. Semester at Sea will provide me with a plethora of excursions, not unlike the fieldwork anthropologists do and perhaps will even inspire me to return for extended periods of time at a future date in order to conduct further research. I plan on spending most of my undergraduate time abroad, and Semester at Sea is the perfect first experience that will introduce me to so many different areas and lifestyles, and from there I will have obtained a greater idea of where I want to spend more time.
In this way, Semester at Sea can dramatically influence my present and future studies in such a positive way by opening my eyes to more colors I never knew existed. Semester at Sea will offer me the present of a larger palette that will hold the promise of a masterpiece.