Hello everybody!
The ports just keep getting better and better! After a speech by Desmond Tutu the night before our arrival in South Africa, everyone on the ship was ecstatic to get off and see what South Africa had to offer. That was until the morning of our arrival, when the speaker from our diplomatic briefing scared the hell out of everyone. He began by telling us his experiences and how each and every day there was a new person in his office who had just been mugged. He guaranteed us all that “by the end your stay here in South Africa, at least one of you will have been to my office.” His demeanor was actually quite laughable; he told us about all of these recent stories concerning travelers getting robbed and/or beaten but while he was saying these things he said them with a smirk and so matter-of-factly. I looked around and people did not know whether to laugh or to genuinely be afraid.
With this guy’s stories in the back of our minds, we walked off the ship and remembered to be aware of our surroundings. However, through our immediate interactions and our surroundings (which was quite westernized) we all quickly learned that the diplomatic man was only trying to scare us into being careful and aware. The harbor was a very nice, industrialized place. There was a mall, an aquarium, restaurants, pubs, nighttime live music, etc. It was a welcoming area. It reminded me of a boardwalk in California or Miami. The only trouble that one may find would be to go to the outskirts of the area (which is night and day compared to the harbor) and see where many of the black South Africans live. I only briefly saw the “town” that some lived in on the bus ride to the airport for our Safari. It broke my heart to see these kinds of living conditions. Their homes consisted of tin and cardboard walls and no running water. Families would cram into a “house” that was smaller than the size of my room on the ship.
Walking off the ship you can still see remnants of the World Cup that was held in South Africa only months before. I really wanted to go to a soccer game at the stadium, but the closest game was to be held a few days after our departure. Even with no soccer game to see, Cape Town was simply amazing. There is so much to do there. Many people went hang gliding off of Lions Head peak, many went shark diving, and I’d say a good majority of the students on the ship went bungee jumping. The bungee jumping location was the tallest in the world. I probably would have done it myself if it did not cost as much as it did. Walking around the town, you can see Cape Town’s famous Table Mountain towering over its inhabitants. There are sometimes beautiful clouds that cover the top of the mountain which the locals refer to as its “table cloth” that is most definitely a sight to see. It is possible to hike to the top, so once we heard that this was an option we jumped on it. The walk was fairly difficult because each step was on rocks that were placed there, well, boulders more so than rocks. It took a little under two hours to reach the top and being immersed into the middle of a cloud we were all soaked due to the altitude and precipitation. At the top, one could not see twenty feet in any direction until the clouds momentarily dispersed. And when the clouds went away, right when you could see your surroundings, the table would get set again and the “table cloth” would once again haze your vision. There was a trolley at the top that went every half an hour so that once you reached the top you could easily take the trolley down and save your knees. However, lucky us, right when we found the trolley station through the thick fog, they told us it was too windy for usage so we had to walk back down. We could not feel our hands at the top but about an hour and a half later back at the bottom, the sun was brightly shining and our tired legs could finally rest. I believe it was our friend Ari who had the bright idea to walk back to the ship in order to save some money. Being at the base of a mountain and at a higher elevation than sea level we could see our port, but seeing it does not make it any closer. This post-mountain walk lasted another two-three hours and needless to say, a cold brew and warm meal really hit the spot once we reached port.
The second day Brian and I bought a ticket for one of those touristy hop-on hop-off buses so we could see Cape Town in its entirety. We stopped and grabbed a meal near a famous market called Green Square Market and did some “light” shopping after one of the best pizza’s I’ve ever had. After a few hours of bargaining and haggling, we hopped back on the bus and went to a place called Camps Bay, which was behind Table Mountain. The houses that we passed looked straight out of Orange County, very nice to say the least. The situational living disparity was overwhelming after seeing the houses that some were living in and the shack towns that existed only minutes away. Even though the Apartheid is over, white South Africans are still much better off than the black South Africans. Driving past the houses, I peered into the windows to catch the interior and saw only white people. And when driving past the shack towns its occupants appeared to be 100% black. It was a very sad reality.
The third day, a group of 5 of us went to the wine country in Stellenbosch for a day of wine tasting and enjoyment. We got up early to catch the train and looking out the window you could gradually see the hills change from a westernized culture to a more poverty-stricken culture to hills of grapes and vineyards. It was a strikingly beautiful transformation. Getting off in Stellenbosch, we caught up with our tour bus just in time. The bus took us just a couple minutes away from the train station to our first stop at a winery called Simonsig where we met up with a group of about 25 or so. It was here where they told us how they age the wine, how it is stored, when they know it is ready, how to taste it, how to differentiate, etc. After this tour, they sat us down and gave us a sheet of various wine names – ranging from champagne to white to sweet to red to desert wines - and descriptions that made each wine sound better than the last. All in all we went to 4 different wineries, each advertising their own brand and one of them even featured cheese tasting which the cheese they made themselves. It was a great day of leisure and satisfaction as our teeth gradually stained scarlet. With what we thought to be our new-found sophistication, we hopped back on a train to Cape Town and awaited the arrival of the sunrise. What’s so special about the sunrise? Well, generally nothing other than its natural beauty, however, its not everyday that you wake up in Africa and get to go on a three day Safari. It is easy to picture an elephant, a giraffe, or even a rhino; because of their foreignness to the US these animals are commonly depicted and portrayed in many different ways. One could even go to the zoo and see them, even if it is in their pseudo environments. But let me tell you, watching these animals in their unfeigned environments is humbling and in many ways aesthetic. We took part in 2 safaris a day, one that consisted of a 5 AM wake-up call and one a couple hours after lunch. Each safari was something that I looked forward to and became more exciting with each one considering the things that we saw the last one. Our hotel, the Kapama Lodge, was really nice. The food was impeccable (best breakfasts ever) and the serenity of the environment was awesome. The safari animals were not our territory, we were in theirs. I was lucky enough to be one of the two to have their own rooms. After sleeping on a rocking ship with a roommate and constantly surrounding myself with company, a room to myself aided in the tranquility. Their were 4 safari cars each layered with stadium seating and Brian and I sat in the back each time with our International Business teacher who I consider as much of a friend as a teacher. Lets hope for an A! Our drivers name was Jefferey and our spotters name was Prem. Prem was the man, he could spot things a mile away and even got out of the car (which you can imagine is very dangerous) to track down the lions, which he did! He called on the intercom and we raced to where he was. A pride of 4 female lions awaited our arrival. They were on the move so we had to follow them through the bush and in doing so our driver took down small trees and made his own path. Jefferey was also the man. There were two “teenage” lions that would constantly play and smack each other in the face with their frying pan sized paws and “nibbled” at each other’s ears. If you want to picture it, picture oversized benji and daisy going at it with more swipes to the head. In addition to the lions, which was everyone’s favorite, we had close encounters with a herd of elephants and a one month old baby elephant. I could watch these giant bumbling beasts all day, they seemed so happy and playful. However a swing with their trunk could kill a man. I promise though one little one was showing off to us, he got on his hind legs and swung his trunk around as if he was saying, “look what I can do!” His mother came over and nudged him along. We also saw a large group of baboons in the distance, but they are very skittish and ran off the second we tried to approach.
I could keep describing these experiences in detail but I think some are best told in person, which will have to wait until I get back. I have some more midterms in a few days so I’ll be staying busy in the near future on the ship. For my classes there is not much homework which is great so the only outside class work is either studying for a test, writing a paper, or participating in a Faculty Directed Practica (FDP) that consists of a “field trip” at one of the countries on the itinerary. I miss everybody so much and think about you all daily. I loved hearing from some of you after my last email, I hope that you all get my response. Again feel free to email me at trvanderboegh@semesteratsea.net. Talk to you all soon!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Adventures in Africa Part 2: Ghana
Let me tell you about Ghana…
Even though it’s the same walk every time, walking down the Gangway from the ship to land never gets old. Each time it’s like surfacing into a whole new world. Because each time, it IS a whole new world that is as exciting, if not more, than the last. Ghana was the second of three places in Africa that we have the pleasure of visiting, yet it was the first that actually felt like the Africa that one would picture. To me, Morocco felt more like a middle-eastern country than an African country. Not only did the people look more middle-eastern – maybe because of the large Muslim population – but the clay houses, the arid climate, and the interactions they had among each other were not as carefree and lighthearted as the Ghanaians. The people of Ghana blew my mind as to how friendly and welcoming they were, especially knowing that we as Americans are descendents of the very same people that enslaved them a couple centuries ago. At the other end of the spectrum, maybe they are so responsive to us is because Americans and Ghanaians were both dependent on the British and now are Independent countries. Further yet, maybe their friendliness is simply due to the visible differences in the people. I learned quickly that the more different you look to them, the more interested they are in you.
Walking down the Gangway - as is the same with every port - there was a long walk along the port to any imminent civilization. Our first order of business was to find an ATM. It took us awhile to find banks that worked for everyone, but once everyone had enough Cedi’s (Ghana Currency) we continued walking to a large market off in the distance. Along the way people would unconditionally welcome us and shake our hands. There is a cool handshake that seemed universal in Ghana that I need to bring home and show everyone. Many of the women would walk with large bowls balanced on their heads and at first we would try and give them a lot of space to walk past us but we soon realized that they are professionals at balancing things on their head and as courteous as it may seem, we did not need to give them that extra space (us tall people sometimes had to duck though because the straw – or whatever it may be – would stick out three feet on both sides of the bowl). Upon entering this open-aired market, the smell of dried fish and meat mixed with waste filled our nostrils. It was a tight squeeze to walk through the marketplace and the passing children would touch our pant legs. As we looked down they would simply smile and wave happily. Live giant snails and crabs would catch our attention but we could not stop and gaze at anything for too long because the people behind us had to get through. It was a constant current of passer byers and balanced bowls of produce.
The second day I had a trip that I registered for through SAS. Brian signed up for this same trip, called the Cape Coast Historical Tour. We were fortunate enough to meet many new people on this trip, where in the end there was a group of ten or so we could all call our close friends. The trip consisted of a visit to the Kakum National Park - where we entered the rainforest and took part in a canopy walk, an overnight stay at the Coconut Grove Hotel located on the beach, and visits to two different Castles on the Cape Coast where the British, Dutch, and Portuguese held Ghanaian slaves. The castles where incredibly eerie and gloomy, yet they made you proud of these people seeing what they once had to endure and what they’ve come through. It would be exceptionally easy for Ghanaians to hold a grudge against the people of their past, yet they continued to be the most kind, warm-hearted, worry-free people I may have ever met. It was a very sobering and refreshing trip. The canopy walk was very cool. It rained the second we got off the bus and stopped the second we got back on. I guess they don’t call it a rainforest for nothing. And it wasn’t just drizzling, it was pouring. The rickety bridges we walked across were mostly made of rope and one plank of wood below our feet. Below the planks was a 140 ft. drop to the top of the canopy. With our raingear on and hoods over our heads, we each took hesitant turns to grab the ropes and walk across the 7+ bridges that were there. The night at the hotel, we had a nice buffet dinner consisting of bread, rice, and chicken and sauces that was very delicious. As the sun set behind the palm trees and beach, a group of Ghanaians started pounding on some drums. As the amount of drummers increased, three acrobatic dancers came out in grass skirts and started dancing before us. They were small yet incredibly strong. One of them even started playing with fire and eating balls of fire. Some of the things they were doing seemed straight out of Cirque Du Soleil. After the show, we walked to the beach where there was a giant bonfire. We all had a few drinks at the bar and brought our beers to the beach, sat in front of the fire and talked about life while watching the moonlit waves crash up against the shallow rock beds that littered the beach.
I wish I had more time to write about every little detail, because these experiences I just tried to explain only begin to scratch the surface. If people have specific questions about anything, please feel free to email me at trvanderboegh@semsteratsea.net I would love to hear from you.
You will hear again from me after South Africa. Some students are skydiving and going on a shark dive, whereas I’m only going on a 3 day African Safari, poor me. I love you all and stay classy!
Even though it’s the same walk every time, walking down the Gangway from the ship to land never gets old. Each time it’s like surfacing into a whole new world. Because each time, it IS a whole new world that is as exciting, if not more, than the last. Ghana was the second of three places in Africa that we have the pleasure of visiting, yet it was the first that actually felt like the Africa that one would picture. To me, Morocco felt more like a middle-eastern country than an African country. Not only did the people look more middle-eastern – maybe because of the large Muslim population – but the clay houses, the arid climate, and the interactions they had among each other were not as carefree and lighthearted as the Ghanaians. The people of Ghana blew my mind as to how friendly and welcoming they were, especially knowing that we as Americans are descendents of the very same people that enslaved them a couple centuries ago. At the other end of the spectrum, maybe they are so responsive to us is because Americans and Ghanaians were both dependent on the British and now are Independent countries. Further yet, maybe their friendliness is simply due to the visible differences in the people. I learned quickly that the more different you look to them, the more interested they are in you.
Walking down the Gangway - as is the same with every port - there was a long walk along the port to any imminent civilization. Our first order of business was to find an ATM. It took us awhile to find banks that worked for everyone, but once everyone had enough Cedi’s (Ghana Currency) we continued walking to a large market off in the distance. Along the way people would unconditionally welcome us and shake our hands. There is a cool handshake that seemed universal in Ghana that I need to bring home and show everyone. Many of the women would walk with large bowls balanced on their heads and at first we would try and give them a lot of space to walk past us but we soon realized that they are professionals at balancing things on their head and as courteous as it may seem, we did not need to give them that extra space (us tall people sometimes had to duck though because the straw – or whatever it may be – would stick out three feet on both sides of the bowl). Upon entering this open-aired market, the smell of dried fish and meat mixed with waste filled our nostrils. It was a tight squeeze to walk through the marketplace and the passing children would touch our pant legs. As we looked down they would simply smile and wave happily. Live giant snails and crabs would catch our attention but we could not stop and gaze at anything for too long because the people behind us had to get through. It was a constant current of passer byers and balanced bowls of produce.
The second day I had a trip that I registered for through SAS. Brian signed up for this same trip, called the Cape Coast Historical Tour. We were fortunate enough to meet many new people on this trip, where in the end there was a group of ten or so we could all call our close friends. The trip consisted of a visit to the Kakum National Park - where we entered the rainforest and took part in a canopy walk, an overnight stay at the Coconut Grove Hotel located on the beach, and visits to two different Castles on the Cape Coast where the British, Dutch, and Portuguese held Ghanaian slaves. The castles where incredibly eerie and gloomy, yet they made you proud of these people seeing what they once had to endure and what they’ve come through. It would be exceptionally easy for Ghanaians to hold a grudge against the people of their past, yet they continued to be the most kind, warm-hearted, worry-free people I may have ever met. It was a very sobering and refreshing trip. The canopy walk was very cool. It rained the second we got off the bus and stopped the second we got back on. I guess they don’t call it a rainforest for nothing. And it wasn’t just drizzling, it was pouring. The rickety bridges we walked across were mostly made of rope and one plank of wood below our feet. Below the planks was a 140 ft. drop to the top of the canopy. With our raingear on and hoods over our heads, we each took hesitant turns to grab the ropes and walk across the 7+ bridges that were there. The night at the hotel, we had a nice buffet dinner consisting of bread, rice, and chicken and sauces that was very delicious. As the sun set behind the palm trees and beach, a group of Ghanaians started pounding on some drums. As the amount of drummers increased, three acrobatic dancers came out in grass skirts and started dancing before us. They were small yet incredibly strong. One of them even started playing with fire and eating balls of fire. Some of the things they were doing seemed straight out of Cirque Du Soleil. After the show, we walked to the beach where there was a giant bonfire. We all had a few drinks at the bar and brought our beers to the beach, sat in front of the fire and talked about life while watching the moonlit waves crash up against the shallow rock beds that littered the beach.
I wish I had more time to write about every little detail, because these experiences I just tried to explain only begin to scratch the surface. If people have specific questions about anything, please feel free to email me at trvanderboegh@semsteratsea.net I would love to hear from you.
You will hear again from me after South Africa. Some students are skydiving and going on a shark dive, whereas I’m only going on a 3 day African Safari, poor me. I love you all and stay classy!
Adventures in Africa Part 1: Morocco
As part of our three stops in Africa, Morocco was the first and I had an amazing experience being part of and observing a culture that is vastly different from the life that I am accustomed to in the U.S. Our port was in Casablanca and there was about a half an hour walk to just get out of the port and into a busing street. A half an hour walk might not seem very long but in 100+ degree weather you become drenched in sweat the first couple of minutes. Directly getting off the ship you get a taste of the culture as there are taxi’s waiting outside to rip you off. Unless you want to pay a $10 dollar, 2 minute taxi ride, walking is your best bet. Once we got to the main street off the port there were a bunch more taxi drivers haggling you to get into their taxi’s. They would follow you down the street (for even a mile) as you walk away, asking if you would like a taxi ride. The phrase “no, thank you” does not mean anything to the locals in Morocco. Walking towards the Hassan Mosque II with the taxi drivers finally in the rear view mirror, we were able to soak up our surroundings while dodging traffic and also dodge some glaring eyes. The Hassan Mosque is the second largest mosque in the world (Mecca, being the largest) and the pictures that we took simply do not do it justice. Since we were not Muslim, we were not able to go inside but I got a peak of the interior and it was simply beautiful. I was even told it had a retractable roof (just like Safeco!). That night a group of us had dinner at the infamous Rick’s Café. We each had some Rosé wine to go along with our small-portioned meals. The movie “Casablanca” was playing on various TV’s throughout the restaurant and live piano music straight out of the movie.
The morning after, I met up with my friend Brian and his friend Emilio – who both go to Stanford – and the plan was to meet up with their friend from Stanford named Zeneb (Z for short) who is Moroccan had a house in Marrakesh. We met at the train station in Marrakesh where Z told us that in Morocco, time is relative; which we realized after our train was over an hour late. The hospitality that Z and her parents showed us was sobering. Z’s father, Abdel, is the main importer/exporter of Hyundai’s in Africa and also does many jobs on the side such as working in the fishing industry. Needless to say, his income was way beyond the vast majority of all of Morocco. We arrived to this house (it was actually their guest house) that was situated on a golf course, accompanied with a large yard and swimming pool. For every meal, their “maid” prepared us feasts that at the end of the our 3-day stay, I think I put on a few lbs because I wanted to be “polite” and try everything that was placed in front of me. Lets just say that this maid knew her way around a kitchen. Before going to bed, Adbel would ask us what time we thought we were going to get up in order to have the food out on the table in the morning when we walked down the cement spiral staircase leading to their main living room. After a late night in Marrakesh and early morning breakfast, Abdel arranged a driver to pick us up to take the three of us to the Atlas Mountains, which is the largest mountain range in all of Africa (Contrary to popular belief, Kilimanjaro is not a mountain but a volcano). After a three hour car ride up a snake-like road with mere inches between our car, passing cars, and the rock wall beside our car, we arrived at a small Berber Village. Our guide, also named Abdel, was half man-half goat. During the tough parts of the hike where we had to watch our footing, after a few steps and a couple of feet further we would look up and see Abdel way in the distance as we heard his Arabic singing faintly drift away with the gentle breeze that ever-so-slightly cooled us off. After about 2-3 hours of hiking we came across another village where Abdel said he had a surprise for us. We watched Abdel walk into a small, clay hut. We where hesitant to follow. The owner of the house greeted us as he gestured to have a seat in a room on the side, which was adorned with small sleeping mats and a few pillows (we found out later that this was the room where the whole family slept). He came in with a table and some Moroccan tea (very sweet mint tea) and two bowls of assorted nuts that we could tell were straight from the village. As I just started to enjoy the nuts, he took the bowls away and came back with a large loaf of bread, 2 plates of egg, and 3 bowls of dipping sauce – a Moroccan sauce, honey, and oil. As we were eating, Abdel made small talk with the owner of the house, while Brian, Emilio, and I looked at each other with thoughts of “-is this okay to eat? –man, this is delicious, -I can’t believe were having lunch in a Berber village, etc.” His children would peak through the doorway and laugh and run away as we made eye contact with them. As I was sitting in that small, padded room with a fresh cup of tea in my hand while watching the children peer into the room and run away giggling, I thought to myself that this sure was an experience of a lifetime.
The next day we spent most of our time in the markets, attempting to barter with the shopkeepers to get the lowest possible price for something that we will never have to chance to purchase again. Even if I had no intention of buying something, I would let the shopkeepers who all say “looking is free, come into my shop” grab my attention and practice my bartering skills. Something that started out at 500 Dirhams (Moroccan currency), I would try to get to 100-200 Dirhams. Often times you can get what you want because if you think it’s a bad deal and walk away, they will immediately give in and drop the price a ridiculous amount. I wonder how many people buy those things at asking price. And who really knows how much the things they sell are really worth?
I could go on and on about the cultural differences, the greediness of the poor, the hospitality of the rich, the dodging of traffic (which has a culture of its own), the Muslim religion and Call to Prayer, the disparity between men and women, but that’s for another time. I do have a lot of reading to catch up on, a paper to write, and tests to study for. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you all and wonder how you are all doing. I can’t wait to see everybody and give you hugs of worldly comfort. Much love and I will write again soon after Ghana which is sure to be yet another eye-opening experience. Love you All!
The morning after, I met up with my friend Brian and his friend Emilio – who both go to Stanford – and the plan was to meet up with their friend from Stanford named Zeneb (Z for short) who is Moroccan had a house in Marrakesh. We met at the train station in Marrakesh where Z told us that in Morocco, time is relative; which we realized after our train was over an hour late. The hospitality that Z and her parents showed us was sobering. Z’s father, Abdel, is the main importer/exporter of Hyundai’s in Africa and also does many jobs on the side such as working in the fishing industry. Needless to say, his income was way beyond the vast majority of all of Morocco. We arrived to this house (it was actually their guest house) that was situated on a golf course, accompanied with a large yard and swimming pool. For every meal, their “maid” prepared us feasts that at the end of the our 3-day stay, I think I put on a few lbs because I wanted to be “polite” and try everything that was placed in front of me. Lets just say that this maid knew her way around a kitchen. Before going to bed, Adbel would ask us what time we thought we were going to get up in order to have the food out on the table in the morning when we walked down the cement spiral staircase leading to their main living room. After a late night in Marrakesh and early morning breakfast, Abdel arranged a driver to pick us up to take the three of us to the Atlas Mountains, which is the largest mountain range in all of Africa (Contrary to popular belief, Kilimanjaro is not a mountain but a volcano). After a three hour car ride up a snake-like road with mere inches between our car, passing cars, and the rock wall beside our car, we arrived at a small Berber Village. Our guide, also named Abdel, was half man-half goat. During the tough parts of the hike where we had to watch our footing, after a few steps and a couple of feet further we would look up and see Abdel way in the distance as we heard his Arabic singing faintly drift away with the gentle breeze that ever-so-slightly cooled us off. After about 2-3 hours of hiking we came across another village where Abdel said he had a surprise for us. We watched Abdel walk into a small, clay hut. We where hesitant to follow. The owner of the house greeted us as he gestured to have a seat in a room on the side, which was adorned with small sleeping mats and a few pillows (we found out later that this was the room where the whole family slept). He came in with a table and some Moroccan tea (very sweet mint tea) and two bowls of assorted nuts that we could tell were straight from the village. As I just started to enjoy the nuts, he took the bowls away and came back with a large loaf of bread, 2 plates of egg, and 3 bowls of dipping sauce – a Moroccan sauce, honey, and oil. As we were eating, Abdel made small talk with the owner of the house, while Brian, Emilio, and I looked at each other with thoughts of “-is this okay to eat? –man, this is delicious, -I can’t believe were having lunch in a Berber village, etc.” His children would peak through the doorway and laugh and run away as we made eye contact with them. As I was sitting in that small, padded room with a fresh cup of tea in my hand while watching the children peer into the room and run away giggling, I thought to myself that this sure was an experience of a lifetime.
The next day we spent most of our time in the markets, attempting to barter with the shopkeepers to get the lowest possible price for something that we will never have to chance to purchase again. Even if I had no intention of buying something, I would let the shopkeepers who all say “looking is free, come into my shop” grab my attention and practice my bartering skills. Something that started out at 500 Dirhams (Moroccan currency), I would try to get to 100-200 Dirhams. Often times you can get what you want because if you think it’s a bad deal and walk away, they will immediately give in and drop the price a ridiculous amount. I wonder how many people buy those things at asking price. And who really knows how much the things they sell are really worth?
I could go on and on about the cultural differences, the greediness of the poor, the hospitality of the rich, the dodging of traffic (which has a culture of its own), the Muslim religion and Call to Prayer, the disparity between men and women, but that’s for another time. I do have a lot of reading to catch up on, a paper to write, and tests to study for. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you all and wonder how you are all doing. I can’t wait to see everybody and give you hugs of worldly comfort. Much love and I will write again soon after Ghana which is sure to be yet another eye-opening experience. Love you All!
First Stop: Spain
Greetings from the MV Explorer!!
Hello Family,
It has been about two weeks since I departed from Halifax, Canada and I can honestly say that the last two weeks have been some of the most exciting times of my life (and we've only been to one port so far out of twelve!). I have met so many amazing people and am continuing to make new friends everyday. We boarded the ship and immediately each and every one of us were placed outside of our comfort zones, which led to many new acquaintances and a positive aura of anxiety, enthusiasm, and pure delight. As eager students and ambassadors we were keen to get the ship sailing - so to speak - and begin our journey.
The food on the ship is actually pretty good, I would say a small step up from the frat food that I'm used to. We get three meals a day and a snack of sorts from 10-10:30. I like to sit outside and eat near the stern where the wind gently hits your face, every once in a while you'll be greeted with a salty splash of mist from the Atlantic. I usually sit with a group of friends where we put 3-4 tables together and eat like the small family we are, and an open family at that.
Class on the ship has not been too demanding, yet we have only had a little over a week of class as somewhat of an introductory stage. My teachers, as you can imagine, all have impressive resumes in their respective fields and when I do make it class.. (just kidding mom and dad-I make it to class everyday) their education and history of teaching becomes apparent. As different as one subject can be from another, a similarity of globalization, cultural awareness, and a raw sense of togetherness is a common theme that is palpable on the ship.
Our first port was in Cadiz, Spain, where we landed five days ago (in port, any immediate school work is put on hold yet brainstorming and thinking about various cultural aspects is encouraged as we will have to present and write papers about these things to be prepared for later dates). I traveled to Sevilla with a guy named Sam and two girls named Becca and Mckenzie (all parts of the "family") where there we met some more people there and traveled as a large group the rest of the way. When we arrived in Cadiz, we bought train tickets to Sevilla where we stayed 2 nights in a rather cozy hostel located really close to a Spanish Catedral (cathedral) that was just beautiful. With this being our first stop, naturally we celebrated and drank sangria (among other drinks), took "Siestas" (naps) as the Spanish do from around 4-5, ate a small meal after the siesta and had dinner at around 10 or 11. From Sevilla we took a bullet train to Madrid- the capital of Spain- where we stayed another 2 nights in a hostel. Well, it was really just one night. Because the second night we had to catch a train at 6 am the next morning and we just decided to stay up all night and spend most of our time in a bar/club with about 70 other travelers and locals : )
We just got back on the ship today from Espana, and as much as I will miss it (I love europe), we will be arriving in Casablanca, Morocco tomorrow evening. Safe to say I'm not too heartbroken about leaving Spain : ) A childhood friend of mine who happens to be here as well, Brian Tolken, had plans in Morocco to be shown around by a local -for safety reasons and for the experience- and invited me to join him as he will show us around Marakesh, hike the Atlas Mountains, and experience a local village. These are just some of the things that I have the pleasure to look forward to in my very near future and share with a boat load of intelligent, yet wild and crazy, co-ambassadors : )
I hope that everyone at home is staying wonderful and that your lives are as rich as mine is right now. I love you all so much and you will be hearing from me again in another week or so. As Desmond Tutu said on our first day on the ship, you are all "aaaawesoooomme!"
Hello Family,
It has been about two weeks since I departed from Halifax, Canada and I can honestly say that the last two weeks have been some of the most exciting times of my life (and we've only been to one port so far out of twelve!). I have met so many amazing people and am continuing to make new friends everyday. We boarded the ship and immediately each and every one of us were placed outside of our comfort zones, which led to many new acquaintances and a positive aura of anxiety, enthusiasm, and pure delight. As eager students and ambassadors we were keen to get the ship sailing - so to speak - and begin our journey.
The food on the ship is actually pretty good, I would say a small step up from the frat food that I'm used to. We get three meals a day and a snack of sorts from 10-10:30. I like to sit outside and eat near the stern where the wind gently hits your face, every once in a while you'll be greeted with a salty splash of mist from the Atlantic. I usually sit with a group of friends where we put 3-4 tables together and eat like the small family we are, and an open family at that.
Class on the ship has not been too demanding, yet we have only had a little over a week of class as somewhat of an introductory stage. My teachers, as you can imagine, all have impressive resumes in their respective fields and when I do make it class.. (just kidding mom and dad-I make it to class everyday) their education and history of teaching becomes apparent. As different as one subject can be from another, a similarity of globalization, cultural awareness, and a raw sense of togetherness is a common theme that is palpable on the ship.
Our first port was in Cadiz, Spain, where we landed five days ago (in port, any immediate school work is put on hold yet brainstorming and thinking about various cultural aspects is encouraged as we will have to present and write papers about these things to be prepared for later dates). I traveled to Sevilla with a guy named Sam and two girls named Becca and Mckenzie (all parts of the "family") where there we met some more people there and traveled as a large group the rest of the way. When we arrived in Cadiz, we bought train tickets to Sevilla where we stayed 2 nights in a rather cozy hostel located really close to a Spanish Catedral (cathedral) that was just beautiful. With this being our first stop, naturally we celebrated and drank sangria (among other drinks), took "Siestas" (naps) as the Spanish do from around 4-5, ate a small meal after the siesta and had dinner at around 10 or 11. From Sevilla we took a bullet train to Madrid- the capital of Spain- where we stayed another 2 nights in a hostel. Well, it was really just one night. Because the second night we had to catch a train at 6 am the next morning and we just decided to stay up all night and spend most of our time in a bar/club with about 70 other travelers and locals : )
We just got back on the ship today from Espana, and as much as I will miss it (I love europe), we will be arriving in Casablanca, Morocco tomorrow evening. Safe to say I'm not too heartbroken about leaving Spain : ) A childhood friend of mine who happens to be here as well, Brian Tolken, had plans in Morocco to be shown around by a local -for safety reasons and for the experience- and invited me to join him as he will show us around Marakesh, hike the Atlas Mountains, and experience a local village. These are just some of the things that I have the pleasure to look forward to in my very near future and share with a boat load of intelligent, yet wild and crazy, co-ambassadors : )
I hope that everyone at home is staying wonderful and that your lives are as rich as mine is right now. I love you all so much and you will be hearing from me again in another week or so. As Desmond Tutu said on our first day on the ship, you are all "aaaawesoooomme!"
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