ChiKongNamIpore Part 3 (Singapore)

ChiKongNamIpore Part 3 (Singapore)

First, I’d like to say that because I was so far behind, I had intended to knock out China/ Hong Kong/ Vietnam/ and Singapore all in one blog entry, hence the name ChiKongNamIpore.  As you can see, that did not happen.  That would essentially have been a short novel, and well, ain’t nobody got time for that.  So for some reason I decided to keep the title, which now, looking back, doesn't make too much sense, but its my blog, and ill do what I want, so deal with it…

Moving on…

Singapore 

Singapore is weird, very cool, but weird.  When learning about Singapore, we kept coming across the same saying: “Singapore, it is a fine place”.  This seemed like a very strange way for EVERYONE to describe Singapore.  Why is everyone using the same adjective? Why such a neutral reaction, why doesn't anyone expand on this?? Then we learned what this really meant.   “Singapore, it is a fine place “ is not saying that Singapore isn’t a great place, because, it is! It’s simply saying that you will get fined for just about ANYTHING!  Before going to Singapore, I knew three things about it:  It was going to be hot.   You can’t chew gum.  And lastly, I had this vague vague memory from when I was in elementary school that went like this ‘being the little asshole that I was had just finished carving my name into a wet cement block outside my school when I over heard two teachers talking about a boy from the United States in Singapore getting publicly caned for graffitiing (I Don’t think that’s a real world, but again, my blog, deal with it) a government building .  ‘ Oh Shit’ I thought (that’s right, I was an asshole, and thought ‘oh shit’, not  ‘oh shoot’, like most elementary kids would think), I’m going to get caned for this.  Fortunately, like today, my handwriting back then was absolutely undecipherable, especially when writing in wet cement, so I never got the caning I probably should have.    

            We only had one night in Singapore, but we really made the most of our time.  We went on a great city tour, ate what may have been the best meal of the voyage so far, chili crab, (ok, your right, I did not eat chili crab, that just sounds way to spicy for me! But my mom and Gabby did and said it was the greatest thing they had ever eaten), and got to explore a city that was beautiful, vibrant, diverse, modern and safe. 

 Though I may have had my “Semester at Sea is the pretty much the best thing ever” moment sailing out of Hong Kong, Gabby had hers in Singapore.  We sailed into Singapore on the Chinese New Year.  Much like in the United States, new years eve is a big night, and, also like in the United States, new years day is a day to relax wearing whatever the Singaporean equivalent of Pajamas is, on whatever the Singaporean equivalent of a couch is (probably a couch).  This meant that the otherwise bustling streets were nearly deserted, the hawker centers which are the life force of Singapore were closed, and almost everyone had either left town for the long weekend or were was at home with their families. After wondering around  the deserted streets for some time, we happed upon a Chinese temple that was seemingly booming with life.  Upon entering we found hundreds, if not thousands of people queuing up for all sorts of things that I was unable to comprehend.  Some here pouring water over the head of a golden statue of a fat guy, some were being blessed by monks, some quietly praying, and lastly, hundreds of people circulating through out the temple putting coins into boxes in front of hundreds of different statues.  Chaos, was all we saw.  We assumed this was somehow linked to the Chinese New Year, but really couldn’t determine too much more.  Like so many sights we had seen before, we were ready to leave knowing little about the history, or the cultural significance of what we had just seen.  Another day, another temple…  On the way out, we walked by a familiar face from the ship, politely nodded, and said ‘Hey Hugh, pretty temple, huh?”, and kept on walking.  Simultaneously both Gabby and I stopped in our tracks and turned back.   Hugh Flick was different then every other person in this temple for two reasons, 1.  He is a 6’5” white guy in his seventies towering over the Chinese worshipers.  2. Hugh Flick happens is the head of the department of World Mythologies at Yale University.  There is literally no person currently living in the United States who would know more about this chaos that was going on all around us.  We turned, we asked, and we were amazed by what we found out.  The details of the significance of this particular temple don’t matter, but the realization that Semester at Sea had afforded us the opportunity to be in the midst of such a place, with the leading expert on earth, was just too much to handle.  Gabby broke down crying, and I’ve got to admit, it was quite a powerful moment. 

Dear Semester at Sea –

            You've got your flaws, but Holy Sh%t you are amazing!!

Love,

Gabby and Jesse

 

That night it was time to say goodbye to my Mom and Marilyne, as they would be leaving the voyage in Singapore.  What an amazing opportunity it was to sail the world with my mother.  Although sometimes I forget, being in Singapore and saying goodbye reminded me that we really are about the luckiest people in the world (and I know, we’ve seen a lot of the world now!).  We escaped Singapore fine free,  and I’d say Singapore is more than just a fine place, it’s a great place, but yah, don’t Graffiti government buildings.  

ChiKongNamIpore Part 2 (Vietnam)

ChiKongNamIpore Part 2 (Vietnam)

Soon after sailing away Honk Kong, I realized where we were heading next, Vietnam.  This moment of realization first triggered feelings of excitement beyond belief, but was quickly followed by a deep terror.  To fully understand the spectrum of these feelings, and how they could both occur so close together and as a result of the same thought, we need to look back about 7 years:

            I was first introduced to Pho by my sister soon after moving to San Francisco.  Soon after moving there she took me to a tiny whole in the in wall restaurant with a line around the corner called The Citrus Club.  While the exact ethnicity of the origin of the Citrus Club’s cuisine is up for debate, it gave me my first glimpse in to Asian noodle soups outside of your standard Chinese take out won ton.  Over time I had come to trust the Citrus Club, and knew that no matter how late I stayed out, or how many shots of Fernet I had taken the evening before, The citrus Club, was always there for me on Sundays.  It was there to sooth my soul, and prepare me for the week ahead.   No matter how lazy or awful I was feeling, hot soothing noodly deliciousness was just a phone call away.  The Citrus Club was my heating blanket that every San Franciscan needs to keep the chill away.  About a year and a half later I moved to Russian Hill, and, to my dismay, outside of the delivery radius of the Citrus Club.   Enter Aux DeLice.  Aux DeLice was a Vietnamese restaurant a block away from my new apartment.  Although the Citrus Club will always have a warm place in my heart, my first real love affair with Vietnamese food will always be with Aux DeLice.  While this love story between Vietnamese food and me was just starting to blossom, so to was that of me and Gabby.  As Gabby and I became closer, Sunday Evenings with Pho became a tradition.  We may have attempted (pretended) to be productive all day, but when the sun started setting, we knew it meant one thing.  Ok, actually two things.  1: it was time to call in our standard order to Aux Delice (1 large chicken Pho, one order of Fresh Spring Rolls w/ extra peanut and fish sauce, and depending how hung over we were, one crispy noodle dish, and one 2 liter of diet Ginger ale).  2: Cue up the week’s DVR’d episode of Manswers.  If you don’t know what Manswers is (I suspect no one reading this except my roommates in San Francisco know) I highly recommend youtube’ing it, then going ahead and Judge us all you want.  It is the most worthless, shameful and ridiculous TV show to ever go one the air, and on Sundays, it was just what the doctor ordered. Sadly, Manswers has long since gone off the air, but Sundays with Pho has lived on.  We brought this tradition with us to Chicago when we moved, and still never go more than a couple of weeks without it. When Gabby applied for the spring 2015 Semester at Sea Voyage last year, there was no doubt about it, Vietnam was the port that we were both most excited about.    We had such a warm and comforting association with Vietnam, we simply couldn’t wait to get there. 

Now, as we pulled out of Hong Kong, I was ecstatic that the port we were most excited about was right in front of us, but then, as quickly as the excitement rushed in, the realization that in less than a week the port that we had been most excited about would be behind us, and then what…   it was a scary proposition, and one that I’m still trying to figure out.            

            Before stepping foot on Vietnam soil, I learned a very very important lesson:  Most people do NOT have that warm comforting association with Vietnam.   When most people hear Vietnam, they hear helicopters approaching in the distance, they hear gunfire, they hear bombs, they hear friends dying, protests and rebellion.  This was going to be a very different port experience than either one of us had expected.

 My mother and her friend Marilyn were still with us on the voyage, and we had, before leaving, decided to sign up for the Semester at sea program that would take us to northern Vietnam to see Hanoi and Ha Long bay.  Hanoi, the current capital of Vietnam, and Ha Long Bay, a beautiful bay with limestone karsts emerging from stunning blue waters (Google it, trust me, its worth it).  It sounded like an educational and enjoyable beachy trip.  We would eat some good food, see some historical sights, and relax on a leisurely cruise around the Ha Long Bay.  Sadly, that is not what happened.  After spending the first couple of days in Ho Chi Mihn City (Formerly Saigon, the stronghold of the south during the Vietnam way), a city we all came to love, where we ate amazing food, learned to cooks some Vietnamese classics, and Gabby and my mother shared quite a moment while getting full body (I mean FULL BODY) coffee scrubs before receiving Vietnamese massages, we packed our bags and were excited to head north. 

While Vietnam may have been unified under one flag after the war, a staggering difference in ideals and attitude was palpable between the north and the south.  Southern Vietnam was sunny, hot, chaotic, and exciting.  I was able to recognize most items on a menu, and could be fairly certain that those I didn’t recognize would still be delicious.  The south was the Vietnam I had expected, the Vietnam I could not wait to get to; the north on the other hand, was something I was not prepared for.  North Vietnam felt communistic.  I’ve been trying for months to come up with another way to describe it because, well: A. Vietnam is communistic B.  Describing something as communistic doesn’t really describe anything beyond the ruling political party.  But that’s all I can come up with.  Northern Vietnam felt like what I grew up imagining a communist country would feel like.  It may have been the stark difference in the weather, or just a bad feeling I got  from our tour guide, but the North just felt different.  While the south was sunny, hot, and clear, the north was grey, on top of grey on top of grey.  Sometimes it rained, sometimes it was foggy, but every minute of our time spent in the north was grey.  It made sense, it just kind of fit.  The food, grey, the architecture, grey, the overall feeling was just kind of grey.  In addition to the grey weather, our guide for the 3 days had what I can only describe as a ‘grey’ point of view.  She grew up in northern Vietnam, her father fought for the Viet Cong, and outside of her frequent trips to Ha Long bay with tourists, she had never traveled more than an hour from Hanoi, a Viet Cong stronghold during the war.  As the saying goes, the victors write the history books, and well, we can all agree that the history books she learned from were far different than the ones from which I was taught. This was my first real exposure to government sanctioned (and commissioned) revisionism, and it just didn’t feel good. 

The remainder of our trip in northern Vietnam was much of the same.  We visited the Hanoi Hilton (though nicknamed after the hotel chain, it is in fact one of the most brutal POW prisons of modern warfare), fed local cuisine that could be described as ‘ok’ at best, and we were even paraded in front of Ho Chi Mihn’s perfectly preserved body in his mausoleum.  Again, not exactly the educational and enjoyable beachy trip we thought we had signed up for.  It was a relief to get back to southern Vietnam. 

Ironically our last night in Vietnam was a Sunday, and so, the four of us sat down for one last bowl of pho, and suddenly, that warm comforting feeling was back.  Vietnam may have a violent and spotted past, but to me, the country will always elicit a feeling of comfort and warmth.  

ChiKongNamIpore! Part I

          Asia, I think we just did Asia.  I apologize for the long lack of entries/entertainment.  We’ve been a bit busy.  While it feels like a lifetime ago that Gabby wrote about her lovely time on board without me, while sailing from Shanghai to Hong Kong, I now, with a day to catch my breadth, can recognize that in reality in was only a few weeks ago, like, less than a haircut ago, maybe one grocery shopping ago for some of you (a grocery store is that big place that sells all of those individual foods, that you quickly walk by one your way to the prepared food section every night (you know who you are)).  For us, it was 4 countries, 9 days at sea, 8 days of work, 2 visitors, and nearly 1200 nautical miles ago.  Oh yah, and 1 hair cut (for me) ago.
 

          Last I wrote, we were approaching Chinese waters and I was feverishly posting before big bad China blocked my ability to do so. Before each port we receive two short(ish) mandatory lectures, one regarding the culture of the port country, what to expect when we get on shore, what might surprise us, upset us, or things to look out for.  The second lecture discusses the logistics of each port for the ship, where it will be docking, how embarkation/immigration will work, emergency numbers etc…, you know, the stuff that goes in one ear and immediately out the other.  During this section of the lecture for china however one slide caught my attention.  The logos of facebook, Google, and instagram flew onto the screen like only a Power Point presentation transition can provide, then BAM, a girls gone wild style black box with the word ‘Censored’ slammed down on top of the logos.  I have to admit, this was the first time on the entire voyage that a true sense of vulnerability rushed over me.  It occurred to me that if I were to get myself into trouble in China, not only could I not Google maps my way out of it, but for the first time I would be operating under the rule of a government that still completely controlled the flow of knowledge, has little regard for individual or human rights, and frankly, could make me disappear without a second thought or question by a bystander.  It was heavy. It’s truly mind blowing when you think about it.  The largest economy on earth operates largely without access to Google.  Let me reiterate, while in China you cannot use Google, you cannot use Google maps, you cannot use Google mail (i.e. Gmail), you cannot use Google chat, chrome, blogger, Google play, you cannot even access Wikipedia.  China has their own closed version of Wikipedia, Wikichina, and well, let’s just say you get zero results when searching Tiananmen Square 1989.  While in China, we were on our own, with just ‘BING’ and ‘apple maps’ to guide us.  We were doomed.    

After accepting the fact that I would not be able to update my facebook status, or check my Gmail for nearly a week, I was faced with another slide, this one looking even more worrisome.  Air Quality Index, it proclaimed at the top of the slide.  Below the title was a link to website that measured the AQI for the day, with the slogan “Know before you go”.  Americans have probably never heard of, nor would we ever need to know the AQI domestically.  We complain about the ‘smog’ that settles over L.A. or the industrial air pollutants created in Gary, Indiana, but this requires some prospective:  If the AQI reached a level of 75 in the United States, the government will  ‘advise sensitive groups, such as the elderly, children, and those with respiratory or cardiovascular problems to avoid outdoor exertion’, if it creeps up to 90, they  ‘may invoke emergency plans that allow them to order major emitters (such as coal burning industries) to curtail emissions until the hazardous conditions abate’. Our first day in Shanghai the AQI was 243.  Not a typo, two hundred and forty-three.  While not the official position of the U.S. Government, I firmly believe that if the AQI reached 243 in L.A. the government would simply say ‘Leave’.

        Stepping off the Ship in China, I was pretty sure that both the air and the water were going to poison me. Fortunately, to protect me from all things evil, my mother was there, in China, to protect me.

          While Gabby was living it up on the MV Explorer, I was anxiously awaiting our (Mine, My Mom’s, And her friend Marilyn’s) flight from Shanghai to Hong Kong.  I have to be honest, I was a bit apprehensive about domestic air travel in china,  but was pleasantly surprised when we arrived at a relatively modern airport terminal.  We patiently waited for our flight to board, then per standard U.S. aviation, we boarded about 25 minutes before our flight (we later learned that this was NOT standard practice across Asia, see Blog entry about Myanmar for more details), and, to my delight, the plane was fine.  It certainly wasn’t ‘Virgin America’ fine, but yah know, the, ‘oh, this is one of their old planes’ Southwest fine.

          On the topic of having my mother with me, I pretty much had only 2 rules while growing up: don’t run on pool decks, and don’t eat tuna fish sandwiches on airplanes.  I must admit, I have broken each of these rules a number of times in my life.  The former, while organizing a game called “running on pool decks” during my stint as a  camp counselor, the latter when a I would inevitably be running late for a flight at SFO, the only place open before my incredibly cheap student price early early morning or late late evening  flight was Klein’s Deli, and all they had left was Tuna salad.  To Gabby’s and my mother’s vicarious dismay I would happily chomp away at my tuna salad sandwich while disgusting all of those unfortunate passengers sitting within 4 rows of me.   Why was this quick Golenberg family lesson relevant you ask?  Well, there was no running on pool decks on board this flight, but 42 minutes into our flight from Shanghai to Hong Kong, Golenberg Rule number 2 was violated, and violated hard.  I was pleasantly surprised to see that although this flight was only about an hour and 45 minutes long, they were coming around with meal service.    Then, I remembered I was in China, and my pleasant surprise quickly turned to horror as the flight attendant said “ would you like the fish or the eel”.  There is no experience quite like being stuck in a 1990’s flying metal tube suddenly inundated with  the stench of 227 ‘fish or eels’.  I was ready for my time in China to come to end and about an hour and five minutes later it would, sort of.

Hong Kong:  Just the right amount of Asia               

Upon stepping off the fish and eel tube, we were greeted by a sight that had become a symbol of safety, freedom, and welcoming.  This sight,  until January had held little significance in my life.  A water fountain, a drinking fountain, a bubbler, that thing that all kids campaigned would flow with soda if they were president of their class in elementary school, whatever you want to call it, the welcoming sight  of a water fountain meant we were safe.  The air was cleaner, the water was safe to brush your teeth with, shower in, and even, in a pinch, drink!  We were no longer in China, sort of. 

         Although the Chinese government currently has power over Hong Kong, Hong Kong has their own currency, their own political leaders, their own elections, and even drive on the opposite side of the road than Mainland China.  The similarities are there, but are minute.  Hong Kong is a modern city with striking high-rises built into an absolutely stunning lush mountainscape.  I can truly say it looks like no other place on earth, well maybe Rio, it kind of looks a lot like Rio, but other than that, no other place on earth.     

          While we were waiting for Gabby’s lavish vacation on board the MV Explorer to come to an end, my mom, Marilyn and myself went on a wonderful city tour, took in an amazing view of the city from atop the highest peak, and had a truly incredible seafood meal sitting on plastic stools in the middle of a bustling night market.  For every bad feeling I had had in my gut (not literally, I am one of the few on board who had still not gotten truly sick (knocking on wood)) about my time in Shanghai, I felt the exact opposite in Hong Kong.  I loved the geography, I loved the topography I loved the biology (there were Flamingos in a creek right across from our hotel), and I loved just about any other ‘ology’ you could come up with.  I loved Hong Kong.  It was easy to navigate, had an immaculate and expansive public transportation system, and well, thanks to a long (non-consensual) visit by the UK, nearly everything was written in English.  I was really excited for Gabby to get to Hong Kong, I had a feeling she would love it as much as I did (Spoiler alert, She did!).

          Once Gabby arrived in Hong Kong we packed as much into the quick 24 hours as we could, we walked around the main park (where the Flamingos were), ate some dinner, watched some E-news in my mom’s hotel room (Bobbi Christina just got out of rehab, like OMG!!!), then went back to the night market to haggle on items we in no way needed.  The following morning my mom and Marilyn were boarding the ship.  Ready or not Semester at Sea, here comes Rochelle.  After Getting the ladies on board, we signed up for our first SAS field program (i.e. an excursion organized by the ship).   During our last day in Hong Kong we would be learning Tai Chi, participating in a traditional tea ceremony, and lastly chowing down on a local favorite, Dim Sum.   Gabby was good at Tai Chi, me, I was better at Dim Sum. 

As I may have mentioned in an earlier post (or I may not have, I don’t really remember what I’ve actually written down, my favorite experiences thus far on Semester at Sea have been waking up super early to see the ship sail into each port.  Hawaii we saw whales and Dolphins as the sun popped over the horizon, Japan was foggy and gray, but we hadn’t seen land in 12 days, so it was spectacular regardless of the weather,  docking directly beneath the Oriental Pearl in Shanghai amongst the modern monstrosity that is Pudong is something that I will never forget.  Boarding the ship our last day in Hong Kong, I had no idea that our sail away was about blow all of those sail in’s out of the water.    

          Many of you may not know (I sure didn’t until the day before sailing into Hong Kong), that Hong Kong has become famous for a light, laser, and music spectacle projected from its futuristic skyline.  We were told before docking that this show would happen each night at 8 p.m. so, night 1 in Hong Kong I made a point to position my self (at an outdoor bar of course) with my Mom and Marilyn at a great vantage point for the spectacle.   8 p.m. came and went, and we saw pretty much nothing.  There were some lights moving around on buildings, but nothing like I had expected.  At about 8:07, after giving up on the show, a saw one single laser project from top of one building, then about 3 minutes later a second.  A light and laser show, maybe??  A spectacle, definitely not.  I had made such a point to be at a good viewing point that evening, that I was a bit upset, and frankly a bit embarrassed.  Night number 2, same thing.  I thought maybe last night something had gone wrong.  8 p.m. came and went, with only a laser or two to show for it.  Spectacle, not even close.  By night 3, our sail out night, I had given up on the spectacle all together.  We were back on board our home, the MV explorer, eating dinner, catching up with friends about their time in China/Hong Kong whom we hadn’t seen in a week, our thoughts already moved on to our next port, we felt the engines of the ship engage, and the thrusters start to push us away from the dock when suddenly music started to blare from across the harbor.  Within a matter of seconds every building in the Honk Kong skyline came to life, some with intricate holiday lights (it was the week before Chinese new years), some had giant 10 story Koi fish swimming in a digital pond, then lasers came out of what seemed like hundreds of buildings simultaneously.  I don’t know what had gone wrong the two previous nights, but this was the spectacle I had been waiting for.  Here we were, sailing off into the South China Sea, my mother to my left, my wife and new friends to my right, a light, laser, and music spectacular going on all around us.  I would say life is good, but I don’t know if that really captures the moment.  More appropriately, I had to ask my self, does it get much better than this??

While the cat's away...

While Jesse travels through China with his mother and her friend, Marilyn, you will have to endure Gabby’s story telling for at least one post. I will apologize in advance for I am not as witty, funny, or verbose as my husband, however I will do a great job of providing lots of facts in the writing style of a telegram.

I am sitting in the faculty lounge watching the fading lights of Shanghai slowly disappear from view while the stinging in my throat and eyes from the pollution level still remains. Today’s air quality level in Shanghai was 243. In the United States alert levels are: 50 – 100 “Moderate (today in NY it was 70) Air quality is acceptable; however, for some pollutants there might be a moderate health risk.”  In the United States 201-300 is considered “Very Unhealthy: health warnings of emergency conditions. The entire population is likely to be effected.” As you will see in my pictures, it looks foggy. That is all smog. My original goal of running outside in every country was quickly squashed as soon as I took a breath outside.There is a layer of dust in the air and covering almost everything. The ship had a great view from where it was docked, but regardless I was really excited to be leaving that night. 

I will try to be diplomatic when describing Shanghai. I will just start by saying it was definitely not my favorite. Before we arrived we were warned that you would either love China or hate it for the same reason “no one in China acts like they give a shit.” Remember manners, not in Shanghai (go ahead and push everyone out of your way). Remember traffic signals, mere suggestions (we saw multiple cars run right through red lights and you were taking your life into your own hands every time you crossed the street as mopeds sped from both directions down the right hand side of the street). Want to spit up that phlegm in your mouth, please do and then spit it right in front of the person walking by (the streets are filled with the sound of someone hocking up spit).  Want to wait in line? Then you are in the wrong place, please proceed with pushing everyone who is also waiting for dumplings out of the way so you can get yours first.

Ok, did you catch the word dumplings in there? There is one very very redeeming factor of China and that is dumplings. Specifically soup dumplings in Shanghai. I will go ahead and quote Anthony Bourdain directly (obviously we went to the restaurant that he recommended in Shanghai), "As [the xiaolongbao] steamed, the delicious delicious fat renders into a soup of the Gods, which then, if you're not careful, causes maximum facial damage — as it changes your life forever."

 Other food that we enjoyed was a great meal at a place that Time Magazine translated to be “Jishi restaurant” however when we showed up it was in fact called “Jesse restaurant,” what are the chances?!?! We did not try the turtle that were in bowls outside of the restaurants, however when we asked our tour guides what turtle tasted like, he said “bull frog.” Well that clears that right up…

Other activities in Shanghai included going to a fishing village, that was marketed as the “Venice of Shanghai.” The town was adorable and we rode in a gondola. We also attended an acrobat show which was fabulous and I have a feeling Jesse will explain in much more detail. The highlight was either the person juggling fire while standing on top (on the outside) of a moving Ferris Wheel or the 9 women balancing at once on a moving bicycle.

I will try to put up a post that includes pictures over the next two days. Jesse, Rochelle, and her friend Marilyn will be traveling overland in Shanghai and Hong Kong and we will meet in Hong Kong soon. I will spend the next two days relaxing, sleeping in, watching the Wire, getting a massage, and “being on call” (there are only 100 people on the ship but one of the psychologists needs to remain on board while in transit). I feel like I chose the better option, but that’s just me.

Land, I see land!

Land, I see land!

Ok, it was still dark outside, but LIGHTS, I see LIGHTS!!  We’ve decided to make it a thing, that no matter how early, or how cold it is outside, we were going to wake up before sunrise and see the ship sail into each port.  (Although I completely skipped over it, sailing into Hawaii was actually spectacular.  It was the first time we had seen land in over a week, the air was warm, humid, and salty, and as the sun began to rise behind us, the light hit the volcanic mountains of the Big Island revealing what minutes earlier had been darkness, but now the welcoming sight of beautiful lush U.S. soil.  As the sun continued to rise, whales, like 6 or 7 of them, started to breach the surface all around the ship. It was incredible).  Sailing into Japan was not so warm, humid, or salty, but spectacular nonetheless.  Despite the cute nickname, the land of the rising sun, no sunrise was to be had, as the intense fog (probably smog, but lets go with fog) blocked it out.  We had done it.  We had crossed the pacific. The north pacific. In winter. Some may not have admitted it, but I’m pretty sure every single person on board let out a little sigh of relief when they first saw land in Japan.  This was the end of our long, long time at sea.  Never again on this voyage would we be as far from land as we had been for the last 10 days.  Now, on the other side of this passing, I can invite you to google ‘semester at sea, the wave’, and you‘ll better understand my sigh of relief.  Actually, on second thought, if our journey makes you even a little skittish for our wellbeing, don’t google it.  Ok, I warned you, you can’t put that toothpaste back in the tube.  We’re safe, that was 10 years ago, we made it across the pacific.     

Japan was amazing.  We were on land for 5 days, only three nights away from the ship but I felt like we were gone for a lifetime!  We did amazing things, ate amazing food, and experienced the single most Japanese thing I could ever imagine.   I hate saying words cant describe the experience, but they can’t, I’ve tried, so: google ‘robot restaurant Tokyo’ and watch a video, (I wanted to insert a link here, but we don’t really have internet service, so telling you to look it up, and putting this sentence in blue text is about the best I can do).  We kareoke’d until the sun came up.  ( ok, the sun wasn’t coming up, but after going to bed before 10 every night for the last thee weeks, being awake until 2:30 a.m. felt like the sun should have been coming up),  and got super lost on crazy fast trains.

I’ll better describe Japan in a post soon, but were quickly approaching China, where the internet is censored (THE INTERNET IS CENSORED!!!!!!), and google/blogger is blocked, so I wanted to get something up before big brother told me I couldn’t.

For now, Sianara, or however you say it in Chinese I guess.  

And then there were Seas…

 As I mentioned earlier, soon after the students embarked, the sea sickness medication they so graciously rejected become less of a courtesy and more of necessity.  On day three of the voyage we were told we would experience our first day of rolling seas.  I had no idea what this meant.  Even if I knew what this meant, I don’t think I would have understood it, or how amazing the body’s ability to adapt to it really is.  Imagine you just got a new sports car.   You take it out for a spin on your first day to that perfect country road with tight turns, and rolling hills.  You zig through the turns, then, as you see the rolling hills approach you push the pedal to the floor, accelerating as fast as you can over the first bump, wahoooooooo, stomach up, stomach down, second hill, wahoooooooooo, stomach up, stomach down, third hill wahooooooooo, you get the picture.  That’s exactly what it felt like.  Constantly, going over rolling hills, in a fully accelerating car, over and over and over again, for 48 hours! You look out the windows of the ship and all you see is water, then all you see is sky, then all water, then all sky.  Its absolutely crazy. Its fun in a car, but try going to work with that going on, then, the fun part, try going to sleep!  When asked how bad of a day this was ‘motion’ wise on a scale of 1-10, one crew member responded probably a 2, ehh, maybe a 3, no, a 2.” Honestly when he said that I was scared.  My first thought was:  How can I do this for 16 more days through japan, then god knows how many days after that for the rest of the voyage.  My second thought was: are these crewmembers sick in the head? How can they live their lives like this, go to work like this every day, and above anything else, feel this damn discombobulated all the time?  A lot of people on board revisited what they had eaten for lunch that day. 

10 days later, when we hit real seas, I understood it.  Somehow, the body adapts.  Don’t get me wrong, it still feels a little funny, and watching people slamming into each other while walking down the hall never gets old, but your body just stops feeling it.  You look out the window and all you see is water, then all you see is sky, then all you see is water, then all you see is sky, but you just don’t feel it.   Nothing anyone could have said would have prepared me for the motion on this ship.  Because its far far smaller than any cruise ship I’d been on, it moves, and moves a lot!

After leaving Hawaii we were forced to divert almost 500 miles south to avoid a giant storm system sitting directly over our plotted course.  The captain made the decision to divert as far south as we possibly could, avoiding the center of the storm, cutting north as late as possible without running out of fuel before reaching Japan, sending us through the outer edge of the storm.  Day three of the voyage, our first day of rolling seas, there were 9-12 foot swells, while cutting through the edge of the storm we encountered 15-20 foot swells, at the heart of the storm, right on our plotted course, there were 55-60 foot swells! Thank you captain, something tells me, no matter how sturdy my sea legs, I would have felt that.      

Back to the Future...

Back to the Future…

We cast off from Ensenada Mexico on the evening of January 7^th .  That much we know for sure.  According to my watch, it is now 10:52 in the morning on Sunday January 25^th.  Although that sounds like a very specific time, we must look a little deeper to figure out exactly where, and oddly ‘when’ exactly I am.  Since leaving the safety of Central Standard time (which can be a bit confusing in it’s own right) on January 4^th we have experienced 9 time changes, and one bold leap across the international dateline (We had a cruise ship time machine/ future party to honor the leap into the future), jumping us a ahead a full 24 hours.  I can confidently say that here, 655 miles off the coast of Japan it is 10:52 in the morning on Sunday January 25^th.  I can also confidently say that I have absolutely no idea what time it is, or even what day it is where you are.    It would take math, like a lot of math to figure it out.  And I’m not just talking simple math like : the west coast is 3 hours behind the east coast, 2 hours behind Chicago, and 1 or 2 hours behind the ever stubborn Arizona depending on the time year.  I’m talking - 1 hour - 1 hour - 1 hour -1 hour -1 hour + 24 hours + 1 hour + 1 hour +1 hour +1 hour = whatever the F%&K time it is where you are.  Yah, I don’t get it either.  We were getting further and further away from east coast time, and then, one night, because they said so, we started getting closer and closer.  And so, to summarize, where I am, 10:52 Sunday morning, the 25^th of January, the ground beneath me is constantly moving (and I mean MOVING, I’ll discuss later) and time is a made up fluid thing.  This is confusing….

Now That I have sort of explained where we are, I thought it might be interesting to explain what exactly we have been doing for the last 20 days at sea (20 days at sea!!). 

In Chicago my weekdays consisted of the following:

-          Snoozing 4 times each morning, knowing that this was about as good as it was ganna get during the day

-          Getting up at the very last minute, or well, about 10 minutes after the very last minute I needed to make it to work on time.

-          Zombie walking through my morning ritual of stumbling down the stairs, turning on the light of my aquarium, wondering into the shower, trying to remember if I had already shampooed my hair, hastily putting on my (insert day of the week) work outfit, sort of pack some breakfast and lunch, check to make sure my hat and gloves are in the pocket of my jacket, and finally stumbling out the door into the often cold and dark world.

-          My work day consisted of, well, ill leave this part blank for the sake that I will need to find a job when I get home. So lets just say: My workday was productive! Super productive! World saving productive!

-          Come 5:30 I would spend about 15 minutes trying to sync up leaving my office at just the right second so I could walk right onto a train, but not the first train, cause that one would be too crowded, so I’d wait for 2 perfectly aligned trains coming within 6 minutes of each other so I wouldn’t have to deal with the awful reality that is an incredibly packed train in the middle of winter at rush hour in Chicago.  Exhausting, isn’t it??

-           Arrive at home between 5:57 and 6:03

-          Begin to heat up whatever it was we made for dinner for the week.

-          Eat dinner when Gabby got home (often considerably later than me)

-          Watch three hours of reality T.V.

-          Go to bed between 11:07 and 11:34

-          Wake up repeat

 Gabby’s schedule at home was:

-          get up at 5 am

-          drive 40 minutes in the dark to get to the gym before morning traffic

-          gym from 7 am – 8 am

-          work from 8:30 am until 6:30 pm

-          drive an hour and a half home in evening traffic

-          eat dinner with Jesse

-          watch one or two hours of TV and then go to bed

Now imagine the opposite:

-          Gabby wakes up at 6:30

-          Walks up one flight of stairs to attend a rotating 6:45 work out class taught by a professor or a student (kickboxing, zumba, yoga, or circuit training) out on the main deck, or run on the treadmill (holding on to the railing for dear life to cope with the intense rocking of the ship.  Try running on treadmill with your eyes closed, yah, it’s like that.)

-          Gabby will then leisurely sit at breakfast for about 45 minutes. Not because she is laboriously concocting a makeshift breakfast from the materials currently available after 19 days at sea, but because our breakfast table is perched outside, on the back of ship, overlooking the mouthwash blue wake with the sun shining in our eyes.

-          I join Gabby at some point throughout this leisurely breakfast, making sure to pop in before the hard 8:30 ‘no more food, you slept through breakfast, enjoy your granola bar until lunch time’ time.

-          We return to our cabin to don our work clothes, Gabby: leggings, a sweater and Toms.  Me:  Jeans and a hoodie, on a fancy day.  Shorts and a hoodie on an ‘I’m kinda tired and didn’t feel like showering before work day.

-           Gabby walks down two flights of stairs (her commute is an hour and a half shorter than at home!!) to her office, the happiness dungeon we call it, and I have to labor all the way up one flight upstairs to mine.

-          After a hard morning’s work, we rendezvous around 11:30 in the cafeteria to partake in what is in actuality a stupidly long lunch break, but in the realm of ship-life, a visual, sensory overloading, and culinary extravaganza of people flowing in and out of the dining hall, friends sitting and chatting in the sun, and students, faculty and staff casually grazing on all the mediocre food you could ever ask for. 

-          Gabby goes back to her office if she has clients or meetings scheduled.  If not, she sits out on the deck in a lounge chair reading all the books that she has been telling clients for years are great, but had never actually read.

-          I have an afternoon activity with the ship kids, snack time, open gym, and time for some administrative planning.

-          If the kids haven’t tuckered me out, I go to the gym around 4 and try my best to meet Gabby each night for the sunset. (I say try my best, because while on a ship I understand that this sounds simply like going outside at a certain time each day, but as we have crossed the pacific, and entered god knows how many time zones, the sunset has set at 4:50, 7:25, and just about every time in between.  It’s a true test of your astrophysialogical knowledge to determine when the sun will actually go down each day) 

-           We then start dinner with friends or with our extended family (we are the proud stand in parents for 5 college students, whom we regularly have dinners with and impart the vast wisdom we have acquired in the many a (1) decade since we were their age.

-          Dinner manages to last at least an hour and a half every night.  Some blame the size of the plates for our multiple trips to the buffet each meal, I say its the fact that we are there for so long that we are pretty much eating two separate meals.

-          In the evening not much goes on.  There are lectures some night that we’ve attended, but really by 9:30 p.m. half of the adults(I use the term adults only to separate us and our friends from the students, and the kids I work with, not because I actually identify as a full blown adult) on board have gone to bed.  Mind you that nearly half of the nights we spent at sea, we gained an hour, so this 9:30 p.m. bedtime is really 8:30 p.m.  No one’s quite sure if it’s the gentle rocking of the ship, the sea sickness meds that we are popping like skittles, our bodies constant need to adjustment to the ever moving world around us, or something they put in the endless supply of potatoes, but its something.   

-          From time to time we have activities starting at 9:30, and sadly, we all drink coffee at dinner just to make it…

-          On those night we do drink coffee at dinner, lateish night dance parties tend to break out in the staff bar (which used to be the nightclub onboard before it was converted to a floating university, so, there’s a smoke machine and ridiculous club/ Bar Mitzvah lighting effects).

Wake up and repeat ^¹⁹ .  

-          Sadly, there are no weekends, every day we are sailing is a workday, but well, as you can see, workdays aren’t too bad. 

And that’s what we’ve been up to.  So far the future has been pretty great.

Soon, we’ll see land (we hope).   

p.s. We stopped in Hawaii for 8 hours a few days ago.  It was nice to step off the ship, but we were literally on land for about 4 hours.  Nothing too fun to report.  It’s Hawaii.  It was pretty, we saw bright colored fish, ate some great poki, and got back on the ship.  Something tells me everywhere we stop from now on will be a bit more exciting!