boipeba island, brazil

i thought the 8 day trip to cape town from salavador would feel especially long, but it’s not really enough time, to process one experience, prepare for another, and get one’s day to day stuff done. we arrive in cape town in three days. the boipeba island trip was perfect on so many levels. i had a small group of well behaved students (see photo) who were able to appreciate brazilian village life and the local culture sober (it was carnival). some had signed up for the amazon trip, but didn’t get it. boipeba was their second choice. they had no regrets. on the spectacular riverboat ride to boipeba, one student asked, how is the amazon different. apparently, the main difference is the width – the amazon is wider. the riverboat ride was slow going. the water was shallow in some parts, which required tricky navigation, to avoid not just shallowness, but sandbars. after it got dark this was even trickier. during our time on the island, and river, we would experience this repeatedly. there are no cars on the island. to get from one side to the next one has to travel the river. there are also floating businesses on the river, accessible only by riverboat. one day we did walk but that was an all day experience, that included returning to our side of the island by riverboat.

the students easily went with the flow and pace of village life. the only thing i heard them complain about the entire time was the global studies course. they too feel the course isn’t as strong as it should be, that the material is weak and not being presented well. in the class following brazil, when the surname ramirez was pronounced ram-i-rez, a student and i looked at one another with similarly confused faces. luckily it’s only one element of the whole experience, and because people haven’t been silent, changes are expected to be made for future voyages.

as i mentioned earlier, on the island we stayed at pousada santa clara. this extremely comfy bed and breakfast is located a few hundred yards from the beach, on the edge of the rainforest. the rooms are detached, connected by a slightly elevated planked walkway that winds through the tropical rainforest vegetation, camouflaging many of the structures. my room located at the top of a spiral staircase had three large latched wood windows, floor to sealing woodwork inside, beautifully tiled bathrooms, huge showers, granite countertop, colorful quilt, elegant stainless steel fixtures, and a hammock, in addition to a bed.

at the pousada santa clara, we ate like royalty, even the box lunches packed for our day trips qualified as fine dining. have i mentioned yet that, i’m officially sick of the dining hall food? no new food has been introduced to the menu in i don’t know how long. however, they’ve become quite creative about what combinations of food they cook to make a variety of casseroles, stews, salads, pasta dishes, etc. sometimes too creative – spaghetti, pesto, and green beans? give me a break! on the other hand, at the pousada we ate fresh homemade breads and cakes, papaya, mango, melons, guava juice, tapioca, mashed plantains (warm) with coconut, fresh fish in great sauces, quesadillas, grilled meat, red sweet ripe tomatoes (ship board tomatoes have little color, and no taste), leafy greens, hummus sandwiches on homemade bread, brownies, crab stews, recognizable pasta dishes, and a variety of ice creams to rival hagaan daaz. i almost cried when i returned to the shipboard dining hall. when we were leaving, one student stated emphatically, “i just want you to know i’m not happy about this situation.”

on the way to the riverboat that would take us to boipeba, we stopped at a maragogipinho, the largest handmade pottery center in south america, but really just a little village. they wholesale to sao paulo and other big cities, but visitors can buy at wholesale prices. it’s basically a company town, with one family at the center of production. everyone in the town is involved in the production of pottery in one way or the other. we watched them throw pots on a manually (by feet) powered wheel. the pictures below are of ,of course, pottery, a kiln, the biggest mound of clay i’ve ever seen, local pottery shops, and the church at the center of town. the kids in the community greeted us, showed us where the not always very visible stores were, kept us company, and were generally amused by us. we were added flavor for their holiday week.

our first full day on the island we walked from one side of the island to the other, a seven mile hike over sand, clay, mud, and at one point chest high water. on the way we got a tour of the village near the pousada, met the matriarch of the manioc flour mill (photo) family. the family has been producing manioc flour, in the traditional way, using no modern, conveniences, like electricity, for 35 years (electricity only came to the island 15 years ago). since it was carnival, the last big holiday of summer (like our labor day weekend), the mill wasn’t operational. charles explained how production worked, with assistance and clarification from her. through interpretation, she answered our questions. unfortunately i don’t have any pictures of the inside of the mill. it was pretty rudimentary - areas for grinding, sifting, and cooking.

a little further on our way we stopped at where they make palm oil. again they were on holiday, but charles and marquinous (i'm sure i'm butchering the spelling), one of charles’s employees, who often accompanied us, explained how it’s done. marquinous was the only islander we met that spoke english. since few others on the island, and in the surrounding area don’t speak english, he gets little chance to practice.

we stopped one more time for coconut water in a small village, where a local with a machete prepared our drinks. after we drank the water, he wacked it in half so that we could scoop out the coconut inside with a makeshift spoon hacked of from the side of the coconut.

the rest of the afternoon was making our way to the other side of the island. my feet haven’t fully recovered. much of the hike, was done barefoot, because the ground was soft (sometimes sand, mud or clay) and we occasionally had to go through water. afterward, i no longer felt bad for having not yet seen the inside of the shipboard gym. i only felt a little bad for eating the fist size homemade brownie that mark packed in our lunches. i felt a little wimpy when marquinous told me that when his futbol team plays the team from the other village they do the same seven mile hike over the mountain, play futbol, and walk back.

marquinous wondering why we can't keep up:

on the other side of the island a riverboat was waiting for us with our lunches and anything else we thought we might need later in the day that we didn’t want to carry with us, or that there wasn’t room on the mule for. the boat took us out on a sandbar to have lunch and swim. on the way home we stopped at an oyster bar on the river – literally – and learned how not long ago locals learned how to harvest oysters from the mangrove using plastic bottles and oyster shells. they now make a decent living selling oysters on the river. soft shell crabs also live in the mangroves. they sell them too. when hung in the mangroves, the oysters attach themselves to the plastic or shells. when they’re raised out of the water the oysters are pried off, cut open and sold on the half shell, with lime, hot sauce or olive oil.

these are the bottles they use to harvest oysters in the mangroves.

the following day we went snorkeling on the ocean side of the island. did I explain that mangroves grow where oceans and rivers meet. bordering the river are mangroves. surrounding boipeba, there are miles of mangroves and waterways, how riverboat drivers know where we are at any given time is a wonder. we rented snokleling masks on the ocean near a reef and sandbar that people gather at. boats full of people came from all around, some with musicians, to hang out in the shallow water, snorkel and enjoy the last weekend of summer.

when we were ready to leave, our boat wasn’t. it was stuck in the sand. we traded boats with one of the groups anchored near us. they weren’t leaving yet. the tide should have risen enough by the time they were ready to leave. the boat dropped us at the beach and we walked home along the beach from there – about two hours.

these are just some of the highlights of the boipeba trip. other experiences include watching a hawaiian themed quincenera on the beach. those little girls got down all night to eighties techno. we also watched a condomble ceremony performed by handmade life size electrically engineered puppets. their construction was elaborate, including their dress, jewelry, make-up, hair, and movements. i was given a personal tour of the recently established, first ever, boipeba library, biblioteca edite da vida (edite gives life library), named after a local midwife.



the whole experience was just one wonder after another. it would not have been nearly as interesting if charles wasn’t such a good ambassador. being introduced to the community by him, gave us a connection that we would not have ordinarily had. also, his knowledge of the history was very valuable. he knew everyone, and everyone knew and loved him.

the next day, on our way back to the ship, we got stuck in shallow water again. after trying our usual maneuver of moving to the front of the boat to shift the weight, we were happy to wait out the tide snacking, reading, swimming and hanging out in the mangrove.

a great big hug ang and kiss for the guys of pousada santa clara who made my stay so wonderful - charles, mark (the cook), and mateus.

p.s. for those i promised postcards from every port, there will be no postcards from brazil. boipeba had no postcards or a post office. even if they did, all post offices were closed throughout carnival.

neptune day

we crossed the equator on february 14. before doing so, tradition requires that ships stop and pay homage to neptune, the god of the sea. we didn’t stop at the time, but today was set aside as neptune day. early in the morning neptune’s court (ship board staff members) parade through the halls drumming, banging on doors, and generally making a whole lot of noise to wake everyone. there is a ceremony at the pool deck where, captain kostantinos, the staff captain (captain jernemy is playing neptune) asks neptune permission to cross into the southern hemisphere. ultimately, the pollywogs, those who have never crossed the equator on a ship, have to prove they are worthy. this is all narrated by dean mike. after having some smelly, milky foreign substance poured over your head, on one side of the pool, you jump in the pool, get out on the other side, kiss a big dead raw fish, and bow to neptune as he christens and grants you permission to cross the equator. there’s no classes all day, and a bbq (a welcome menu change) in the afternoon. neptune is green, head to toe, and dressed in their greek god finery. while i was standing back watching all this, i saw some of captain jeremy’s crew position other members of their crew on the lower level of the seventh deck for a photo op. next thing i know someone pours a huge bucket of green liquid on them from the upper level of the seventh deck – a rite of passage for them too apparently. unfortunately they were in their white uniforms and unsuspecting, while most of the pollywogs submit voluntarily and are appropriately dressed.

another rite of passage includes shaving one’s head, some opt for a mohawk. many students acquired mohawks the day we crossed the equator, more later, and even more today. the hair from the shaved heads is being donated to locks of love, the organization that makes wigs for cancer patients. it’s being said that 32 women on our voyage shaved their heads. there was a photo op of all, male and female, who shaved their heads, taken from the deck above them. unfortunately, i was in line for bbq (did i mention that that was a welcome menu change?), at that time. the photos here are of the women. neptune day was a nice break in the routine, although recently established. we’ve all experienced so much in such a small amount of time, it’s nice to have a light weight day, where the most serious thing you have to decide is whether to shave your head or have some foul substance, representing fish guts, poured over your head.

lindsay (center), a library work study student, sporting her new do.

if i get sucked up by the sea, and don’t make it home, you’ll know it was because i didn’t pay homage to neptune.

1002 places to see before you die

just a quick note to say we're back on the high seas. the exhaustive boipeba island experience i can't yet put into words, but will post soon. this morning, at the first global studies class following salvador, i discovered why a psychology phd, rather than a global studies or ethnic studies scholar, is coordinating, or least feels qualified to coordinate the global studies class - he has black family members. sigh!

my friend james gave me a copy of 1000 places to see before you die. after san juan, the first thing i did once back on the ship was to see if the gallery inn was in it. i did the same for boipeba island. neither are but should be, especially boipeba, while staying at the pousada santa clara.

thus far, all my port experiences have been grand. on boipeba i was having such a great time, i thought if i had to go back to the us now, i'd leave totally content, with wonderful memories. then, this morning i found out that, in cape town, i will be having dinner at the archbishop's home with other invited guests. they actually felt they needed to ask if i was going to be available.

i've been having an embarrassing amount of fun.

on the eve of bahia

these are our work study students - an, lindsay, erika, erica, and roxanne. tomorrow is erika's birthday (picture taken at library b-day party/staff meeting) and the day we arrive in bahia. the energy level on the ship prior to a port day is quite high. combine that with the fact that today was the first big exam day, and carnaval is going on, you can imagine the vibe around here. i had no exams, am not planning to do a high energy carnaval, but after seven days at sea, i'm longing for solid ground again, and am packed and ready to get off this ship for a few days. we'll be docked in salvador for five days and four nights, before heading to cape town. it will be another another long haul, 8 days.

i'm the trip leader for a s@s field program to boipeba island. fourteen of us, 12 students, myself, and one other staff person, will be staying at the beautiful pousada santa clara for three nights, hiking, exploring the local village, hanging out on the pristine beaches, and learning about the local ecosystems, and economies. the journey to the island will also be an experience. it includes a bus trip, ferry ride, and riverboat ride. apparently, there are no cars on the island, and all people and goods arrive via riverboat. the island is an environmental preservation area. our local trip leader, and proprietor of pousada santa clara is charles, a former new yorker and a friend of my friend harriet who many of you have met, and who i talk often of.

well it's ten minutes to closing. i need a good nights sleep tonight because i want to be up when we pull into port at 7am. i tried in san juan, but couldn't get up. one nice thing about living in the ship ghetto is that there is less activity/noise. students apparently are nocturnal beings. the latest i've gone to bed was about 12:30, and there are students all over the place at that hour. one morning, after the library opened, a student was looking for a book he thought he left in the library at 3am that morning. the dining hall, by popular demand, has started serving a 10pm snack, tiny sandwiches, desserts and coffee. they were lined up at 9:30. did i mention how nosy they are too. regardless, they are fun to watch and even hang out with, which is good because they out number faculty and staff considerably. on neptune day (no classes) they make this clear. more on this later.

the miseducation of white folks

we’re 2 nights away from salavador brazil the most african region of brazil. prior to each port there is a mandatory cultural preport program (music, song, dance of the country), and a mandatory logistical preport program (leaving and returning to the ship in an orderly and timely manner). the cultural preport meeting is going on now. i closed the library and sent the student workers, but couldn’t bring myself to go. the global studies class earlier today addressed the issue of racism in brazil. it was painful to listen to. none of the profs here come from ethnic studies programs (only one is a person of color), and clearly everything they know about racism and people of color, they learned in a book, and on the evening news. the sound bites spouted should qualify as torture under the geneva conventions. in talking about u.s. racism, the global studies course coordinator (a psychology prof.) discussed why "african americans" want to be referred to as african american, not even pausing a moment to consider that some of us prefer black. other sound bites included references to “driving while black” (is this really what these white kids need to know about racism) and why are all the black kids sitting together in the cafeteria (i’m pretty sure he didn’t read the book). and, don’t get me started about what books they don’t have in the library collection. to make a centuries old story short, this is why this black girl is in her room sitting out the cultural program.

gaye, grace, jim, julie, renee, harriet, and geoffrey, these students can seriously benefit from your knowledge and teaching skills. i can seriously benefit from your company. i miss you and i regret having to miss renee’s long overdue new york show, which i hope leads to more in the near future; gaye’s conversation with chuck d, and grace and her students’ spring 2007 production of the vagina dialogues. also, i regret that we’re not going to australia so that i can visit harriet and kerryn in tasmania. i also regret not being able to do our annual todos santos trip. have i mentioned how much i miss you all.

liberation theology at sea

breakfast with the archbishop wasn’t the first or last time that i had the opportunity to meet or speak with him, but it was the most i’ve interacted with him. i see him fairly regularly, mostly in the faculty-staff lounge, but i don’t disturb him because i know he’s there to deal with correspondence. he’s commented to me about the challenges of dealing with email - like the rest of us, the volume, spam etc. at breakfast we discussed his stay at oprah’s montecito estate, books, mrs. tutu’s (she’ll be joining us in cape town) recovery from knee replacement surgery, why he still keeps such a heavy schedule, why he wanted to do the entire voyage (he’s sailed partial voyages before as a guest lecturer) and nelson mandela’s health. in order to protect the archbishop’s privacy i’m not going to reveal the details of our conversation over the internet. the blog is intended for my friends, family and colleagues. because of that i forget that the whole world can read it too. i will say that i found it amusing that the archbishop prefaced his remarks about his stay at oprah’s with “i don’t want to drop names or anything, but….” in addition to enjoying oprah’s lavish accommodations (no surprise there), oprah made sure he had as many smoothies - the archbishop loves smoothies – as he wanted.

the archbishop mostly keeps to himself, except for meals, when he has to access the internet, and for shipboard programs and media events, like when the governor of puerto rico came aboard to welcome us. he’s primarily here for down time. we’ve been instructed to address him as archbishop, father (the formal), or arch (the familiar). he is very paternal and puts one at ease immediately. walking with him, he tenderly, placed his hand in my lower back. i would love to follow him around just to hear all the crazy things people say to him. he passes the library on his way to and from the dining hall. once i heard a student say to him, “i think i have bed bugs, do you have bed bugs”? he relied, “no, I’m good”. another time, after getting his food from the buffet, i saw him sit down with a group of students in the dining hall. you should have seen the looks on their faces. they didn’t know what to say or do. i wish i could have stayed to watch. i’m sure he had them laughing at and at ease in no time.

i’m still working my way through rabble rouser for peace his biography. it’s my shipboard reading, and i’ve only recently been able to find time to read at length on the ship. it's too thick to travel with in port. i’ve been struck by how much loss the archbishop has experienced, seeing several of his communities destroyed. also, the resistance, and outright, and unapologetic opposition to his social justice work from within the church is amazing. one church authority wrote “There are clergy in South Africa who are toying with the sort of thing that Martin Luther King did in America – I want to tell them: Cut it out! Cut it out!” (rabble-rouser, 118). why is it that institutionalized religion often supports racist and oppressive social and public policies – apartheid, slavery, jim crow, eugenics. i’m sure the list is longer, if you can think of others, post them to the blog.

the archbishop once wrote, “If the white man is so made that he finds it generally difficult to understand the meaning of apparently straightforward sentences… such as ‘God loves you,’ then perhaps the white theologian is justified in being concerned with Wittenstein, with verification principal et al…Black theology seeks to make sense of the life experience of the black man, which is largely black suffering at the hands of rampant white racism, and to understand this in the light of what God has said about himself, about man, and about the world is a very definitive Word…Black theology has to do with whether it is possible to be black and continue to be Christian; it is to ask on whose side is God; it is to be concerned about the humanisation of man, because those who ravage our humanity dehumanise themselves in the process; [it says] that the liberation of the black man is the other side of the coin of the liberation of the white man – so it is concerned with human liberation. It is a clarion call for man to align himself with the God who is the god of Exodus… the liberator… who leads his people, all his people, out of all kinds of bondage – political, economic, cultural, the bondage of sin and disease into the glorious liberty of the sons of God” (rabble-rouser, 138-139).

san juan & soft elusive time

we left puerto rico on 2/9 at around 2230. we’ve been sailing en route to salvador, brazil for two days, seems like three. we arrive in brazil on 2/17. this info is as much for my benefit as for you readers. time seems to slip away without me ever really knowing what day of the week it is or how many days its been since whatever. i can go on about how on board the ship we have only A days, B days, and port days (no weekdays or weekends), and the implications for keeping good time, scheduling work study students, etc., but i’ll spare you.

this posting is intended to be about my san juan experiences. our port days in puerto rico were few, 2 nights and three days. at each port there are a range of s@s organized field programs we can sign up for. some are inexpensive ($5-$50) local excursions, others are multiple days and can require air, train or bus transportation ($100-$1,500). so that i can bop around on my own, in san juan and other ports, i signed up for only one field program.

my san juan field program, the first thing i did on arrival, was a visit to loiza, a community established by former slaves and free blacks, which retains much of its african heritage. loiza was the slave trading center of the island. in loiza we visited the home and studio of local artist and native son, samuel lind. although he’s an established and successful artist he has chosen to stay in loiza, the subject and inspiration for his oil paintings, sculptors, and posters. lind gave us a tour of his studio, and discussed his work.





we also visited the shop of the ayala family. the ayala’s are mask makers and have, for generations, been making the masks for the annual (july) st. james festival, a heritage festival, where locals parade, wear masks and recreate the battles between the christians and muslims in spain during the middle ages. we had lunch at a local restaurant before going back to the ship. theo, tiffany and I sat together at lunch. both are students from california, theo from san francisco and tiffany from san diego. i regret not getting a picture of us together. they’re very cute, fun kids, having the times of their lives; neither have ever traveled outside the US. these photos of theo were taken since leaving san juan:





once he discovered i was old enough to be his mother, he’s taken to calling me “old school”. an (pronounced on), one of my work study students (he's actually in the background of the photo of theo and i), insists on calling me “boss”. being around all these kids 24/7 is not making me feel any younger.

before leaving for loiza, i had packed a bag with the plan of walking into old san juan and getting a room. i wanted a room with a window (even if it opened on to an alley) and to wake up in the city. i ended up at a spectacular place in a room with no windows, yet i was completely sated. i had emailed the gallery inn (found in a lonely planet guidebook) the day before to see if they had any available rooms. i walked into town with a fellow voyager and managed to find the inn without the address i had left behind in my haste to get to town. the lonely planet description didn’t do the place justice, and the web site is not at all representative of the rustic 18th century 23 room inn perched over the sea, on the edge of old san juan, between el morro and san cristobal, the forts, connected by a long wall, which puerto rico used to defend itself before falling to the u.s. the rooms are connected by stone stairways, lush gardens, and art covered walls. much of the artwork are the sculptures and molds of the artist-owners jan d’esopo and husband manuco gandia. the space is open and rambling, making it hard to tell where the furnished gardens and outdoor space end and the rooms begin. the door to my room was a shutter door. although i didn’t have any window, light and sound came through and i no longer felt cut off from the outside world.

these photos are of the inn lobby, the view from the balcony outside my room, and the countyard where i'd have breakfast and read.







in contrast, as i sit and type this in my cabin, the clock says 1215; i haven’t been out of my cabin today; and i have no idea whether the sun is out or not (it usually is). i woke up groggy this morning at 0815, realized that i was going to miss breakfast which ends at 0830 and proceeded to go back to sleep when i remembered that we were suppose to set our clocks ahead one hour (but why, what difference does it make?). i was not only going to miss breakfast, but global studies (the course all must attend) too, which begins at 0920 every day. after sleeping a little more, i sat up to work on the blog. i’ve chosen to work the 1500-2300 shift in the library so that i can have the day time hours to read, blog, get some sun, etc. i guess this is what can happen as a result. the alternative is to work 0800-1600 and be too tired in the evening to do anything and never get any time under big sky. since leaving puerto rico, finding the right routine has been the agenda of most aboard.

at the gallery inn, finding a routine was simple and natural – waking up slowly (possible because breakfast was served until 1030) to the sun peeping through the shutters, reading in the garden over breakfast, then returning to my room to prepare for a day of roaming the streets of old san juan - in and out of galleries, cafés, restaurants, shops, historical sites, museums and of course, walgreens for some necessities. so not to ramble on and on, because i did cover a lot of territory and saw some splendid things, some of the places i visited and would recommend include, the museum of african heritage (museo de la raiz africana):





castillo de san felipe del morro (aka el morro)and castillo de san cristobal (the forts where puerto rico defended itself before falling to the u.s.)







visit restaurante la danza for the best sangria you’ll ever have. at the spanglish café, i learned why crunchy plantains aren’t sweet (they're not ripe), and talked at length, about books, puerto rican art, and life in old san juan, with robert, the owner. for yummy fine dining check out amadeus, located off the same plaza as the museo de la Africana raiz. other favorite sites were this tree, its serious roots, and strange hair that hangs below a canopy of leaves. unfortunately, no one i asked was able to tell me what type of tree it was.





while at the gallery inn, i also had a clean well lighted place to read, many in fact. it was a pleasure to read again in peace, without interruption or fatigue (while not suffering from full blown seasickness, the constant motion has definitely fatigued me). jeremy mercers’s book, time was soft here, was the perfect complement to my san juan experience - no high drama, but lots of characters doing “soft time” (as opposed to the familiar "hard time") at george whitman’s shakespeare and company bookstore in paris. despite the challenges of shipboard life, which mostly can be attributed to the newness and uniqueness of the experience, it certainly can’t be considered anything but soft time, despite it’s elusiveness.

in conclusion, some folk art for the folks back home. peace, kisses, and know for sure you're missed.



p.s., also checkout the new links, under "site seeing". there are links to info and resources i've recently learned about, but am not necessarily referencing in my narratives.

bienvenidos a puerto rico

we're in puerto rico, and will be leaving the ship soon. at least attempting to. it apparently takes about two hours to "clear the ship". right now the governor of puerto rico is addressing the shipboard community, so i have to go. earlier this morning, on my way to breakfast i ran into the archbishop on his way to breakfast too. we had breakfast together. stay tuned for the details of our discussion - what he's reading, his stay at oprah's montecito estate, etc.

"the avenue" at sea

per request, here are some unexciting photos of my unexciting living quarters. on this voyage, with regard to size (small)and interior design (no color, art, portholes, or furniture), the staff have the poorest living conditions.

grace, you’d love the cave aspect – no matter what time of day, it’s pitch dark with the light off. at night, i some time retreat to my cabin, but if i get a chance to get away during the day (only happened the day the students boarded), i’m more likely to retreat to the faculty-staff lounge, which is off limits to students. it’s on deck 7, the top, and is like a glass bubble. i’ll post a picture after i take one. it’s social hour now, and I’m not feelin’ social. they should call it happy hour because wine is only $3 a glass.

my cabin, has a small narrow bed, with a fold down bunk bed attached to the wall above. i have plenty of drawer (two under the bed and four more below the tv) and closet space but would prefer more work or sitting space. the only place i can sit is on my bed. while there is a small bed side table/desk next to it, it is always crowed, and essentially only good for grab and go stuff. the neatly folded clothes on my bed is the work of my cabin steward, hector, who cleans my room. if it wasn’t for him, i’d probably still be having anxiety attacks when having to look for my room. not to get too far off track, but all the halls and stairways look alike and the cabins in my area, forward part of the ship, weren’t on the map (read, ghetto). i was so lost when hector found me, that after he showed me how to get to the cabin, i didn’t know how i got there, thus couldn’t find my way back, until he enlightened me about even and odd, port and starboard, and pointed out some landmarks. today was the first day that i left clothes, my pajamas out, on my bed. as you can see, above, he folded them and neatly placed them on my pillow.



there’s a closed circuit tv for shipboard programming - films, coordinates, etc., due to time restrictions, i haven't turned it on yet. i also have a small low frig (under the jeans)nestled between the drawers and closet. other than beverages (and you don’t refrigerate red wine), i’m not sure what we’re suppose to put in it. we’re not suppose to take food out to the dining hall, and we’re not allowed to bring food aboard the ship. in nassau they confiscated my thai green curry doggie bag.




there is a shower in the bathroom, but it’s not much bigger than the shower on the 52 foot boat i sailed the greek isles on. any significant arm movement or bending over is out of the question. why it even has a shower curtain i don’t know. like most european showers, the floor outside the shower has a drain, thus if everything in the area is waterproof, one can theoretically take a shower in the middle of the bathroom. thus, i know longer close the shower curtain while showering. the only not waterproof (what’s the opposite of waterproof?) thing in the bathroom are the extra rolls of toilet paper on a fixture below the roll that is in use. the roll in use is covered by a metal device that helps you conserve tp usage. after I started ignoring the curtain, and essentially giving the bathroom a good wash down before hector even arrived, he started leaving the wrapping on the spare rolls of toilet paper to protect them. they don’t recycle nada around here, but they’re fairly conscientious about conservation.



here are a few other shots from the ship, shot early this morning, thus not many folks about. the bookstore:



the piano bar:



the library (seating area and reference desk), which is open 24/7 because it has no doors. there’s a late night honor system sign-out sheet:





like the many other ghetto quarters i’ve lived in – ventura’s “avenue”, “dark slope” (the colored section of park slope, brooklyn), and san francisco’s tenderloin, i’ll, over time, be able to add a little color to this humble shipboard abode. however, my current priorities are hangers, a laundry bag, and a calendar, which reminds me, we have to set our clocks ahead an hour tonight. strange since we don’t reach land until the day after tomorrow. apparently, fish recognize time too - late night humor. i need to go to bed.

ciao, and send more questions and requests.

community building

i boarded the ship on wednesday, january 31 for orientation. i’ve only been off the ship once since then. january 31 was not only my first day on the job, but it was the first day on the job for every other staff and faculty person who will be working on this shipboard campus. combine that with the fact that classes start on february 6, and you have one unique situation. like most academic institutions one’s first day on the job and the beginning of the semester entail a considerable number of meetings. thus, in between figuring out how the hell to do my job, or i should say in between figuring out how the hell “we” (erin, the one other librarian) run the library, i’ve been to a few meetings. the meetings have been about campus life, and have very little to do with how to run the library. finding out about shipboard life, who’s responsible for what, campus policies, procedures, departments, etc, is good, but it doesn’t change the fact that when consulting another department or faculty person, that it’s their first week on the job too – this is the institute for shipboard education’s (ise) means of building community. it seems to be working, we’re all definitely in the same clueless boat – or i should say ship (they're very sensitive about certain terminaology). thus far I haven’t met anyone that i want to seriously avoid.

the shipboard library, is small, 12,000 volumes, seating includes two tables, and a few barstools at the reference desk. in the ship’s previous, pre-semester at sea life, the space the library is located was a casino. there is no work space for processing materials, and there is barely enough space for one librarian behind the reference desk, let alone two. oh, did i mention that we were assigned five work study students (one from camarillo) yesterday who we are suppose to train to do jobs that we haven’t even figured out how to do ourselves. i suspect over time they will be our saving grace, but more on them later, at least a picture.

given the size of the library, erin (the head librarian) and i have to do everything, including library tasks we don’t do in our regular library jobs (erin’s the head of cataloging at university of virginia, and i’m a reference, collection development and instruction librarian at ucsb), tasks that wouldn’t be difficult if we had someone to train us and a solid library infrastructure to work within. thus, we’ve had to figure out things like how to set up course reserves, print (haven’t really figured this out yet) and electronic (got this down), scanning, how to check in and out books (just figured that out yesterday, day 4), and where to get basic supplies like pens and post-its (took longer to find the time to actually go get them; sent a work study student once they arrived). internet access is limited, but there is a campus intranet, that is offline, and is where the electronic reserves are located, but requires one to map access to the drive (and three others where more campus resources are located), something most computer users have no experience doing. so we’ve been spending a considerable amount of time teaching faculty, individually, how to do it, as well as how to set-up the university of virginia’s proxy server on their computers – annie, I feel ya. we’ve also learned how to and taught faculty and staff, again individually, not in an organized instructional group setting, how to set-up their computers to print to the computer lab printer.

i’m exhausted. if i had to cook, clean or do laundry for myself, i probably would have quit by now, or at least i wouldn’t be as good humored about it all. however, when i get back to my cabin in the evening, my bed is made, my bathroom is clean, my mail has been delivered, and my carpet is vaccumed. the food is great, the coffee not so, but i haven’t tasted the coffee at the pool bar, where we can "purchase" expresso drinks. i don’t think i’ve been over eating, but i need to cut back on the scrumptious desserts that are available at every meal. i’m not use to eating desserts weekly, let alone at every meal, then there are free coffee and cookies that are available in between meals.

there are seven decks on the ship. everyone takes the stairs. i didn’t even notice the elevator until yesterday. at first i was reasoning that all of the up and down stairs will burn off the dessert, but i’m going to try and avoid the desserts all together and hope that i can lose a few pounds. it’s very easy to eat healthy because there are lots of fruit, salad, veggie, poultry and fish choices, the problem is volume.

erin and i worked a few hours this morning and are taking the rest of the day off, while students are boarding and parents are visiting. i got off the ship for a bit to grab some stamps at the hilton and a newspaper (white people should just refrain from talking about black people), but am now nesting in the faculty staff lounge with archbishop desmond tutu, my laptop and the sunday miami herald (i miss the la times). the archbishop is sending an important email and not to be disturbed. i first met him yesterday after a meeting. during the meeting we were informed that he recently arrived from receiving an award in india, was exhausted after making his way here to nassau, and would be resting until the reception for him later that evening. after the meeting i went up to the faculty staff lounge (the only student free zone) and there he was sitting alone with his laptop. i mentioned that he was suppose to be in his room resting. he replied that there was no wireless there – another ise community building strategy.