tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47985354399180250432024-03-05T02:02:49.293-08:00sojourner librarianSojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-20235456531723142242007-05-10T18:27:00.000-07:002008-03-27T15:09:07.411-07:00end of voyage report<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLS4wY8MSYRSM0HIJ-qzuOwVE1rhtbsp7G8GvF8MjqoLEJVUhTKgf7qzht708nIAjr2IIrHWSktaTAtpHMqRdVwKVRut2W12wHEgsk0qyWaHhHKM35aJWqrADHJR7FZ3eC29Rk3hBrO8/s1600-h/large_group_shot.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLS4wY8MSYRSM0HIJ-qzuOwVE1rhtbsp7G8GvF8MjqoLEJVUhTKgf7qzht708nIAjr2IIrHWSktaTAtpHMqRdVwKVRut2W12wHEgsk0qyWaHhHKM35aJWqrADHJR7FZ3eC29Rk3hBrO8/s400/large_group_shot.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182546935816819218" /></a><br />there are two days left on the ship. like most universities, there's lots of studying, paper grading, and programming going on, including a shipboard bazaar to swap and buy questionable acquisitions; a <a href="http://www.uscampaignforburma.org/">burma teach-in</a> to encourage s@s not to stop there during the fall voyage (it was removed from our itinerary because archbishop tutu refused to be a part of the voyage if we stopped there); a dependent children's theater production; lgbt awareness week, with drag show; a screening of independent short documentary films by ben wu (global nomads); theater, director screenwriter, and travel writing class readings and performances; a convocation for graduating seniors, end of the semester parties, etc. <br /><br />as the end approaches, some have mixed feelings about ending the experience and returning to their normal lives, others are ready and excited to move on. for all, emotions are high and near the surface. the questions on everyone's mind are:<br /><br />q: would you do it again?<br />a: yes, a few years down the line, conditionally. i'd do a summer voyage, which is shorter and has a lower student enrollment, about 200. a cabin with sunlight would be another stipulation. i'd prefer not to do another voyage alone. brenda, the nurse practitioner, who is also sailing alone, put it well - "i'm welcome everywhere, but not expected anywhere"<br /><br />q: what were your favorite ports?<br />a: culturally, south africa for its multiculturalism, and vietnam for the people and the vibe. in terms of my port activities, my brazil experience was much fun because of the physical activity, accommodations, food, and more importantly, the company - the wonderful guys at pousada santa clara and the mature students on the trip.<br /><br />q: what are your plans for the summer?<br />a: i go back to work june 1. i also want to continue to develop my indexing skills and look for some freelance indexing work. reconnecting with friends and doing some serious nesting is also on the agenda. a todos santos (bcs, mexico) trip is in order, since our annual spring retreat didn't happen this year.<br /><br />q: what will you miss?<br />a: although i live on the california coast and see the pacific daily, i will miss the awesome views while at sea - the cloud formations, horizon, big sky, and sunsets are spellbinding. when sitting out on the garden lounge deck, it's nearly impossible to take your eyes off the horizon. the problem, is that due to my work schedule, i only had a limited amount of time to fully enjoy it - basically just meals. the spouses, partners, and lifelong learners, not employed by ise, really have the sweetest deal on the ship. for the rest of us, time management remains an issue. considering someone is cooking and cleaning for you daily, and your door to door commute time is 2 minutes at most, it doesn't seem possible, but meals, happy hours, and work is scheduled, which doesn't leave too many daylight hours. in the evening there are tons of programs and meetings. then there's time consuming activities like doing anything online and planning in-port travel. and, gawd forbid you actually want some time alone.<br /><br />the one thing i haven't completely figured out is what advice, i'd give future voyagers. other than doing homestays whenever possible, the only other thing i can think of is not to buy, in advance, a lot of s@s field trips for each port. leave time for independent travel. except for pre-sale and manifest (overnight) trips, one can usually join a trip at the last minute, like flying standby.<br /><br />finally, for those of you who like choices, another shipboard university was established last fall. its called <a href="http://www.thescholarship.com/">the scholar ship</a>. for the first time, s@s has some competition. the major difference from s@s is that it's not an around the world program, but they visit many ports; in terms of institutional sponsorship, student body, and ports visited, the program is more transnational; and there is a graduate program. uc berkeley is the sponsoring institution in the u.s., but credit is given by an australian university.<br /><br />and, yes librarians, they do have a library, or what they refer to as a "learning resource center".Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-61097721984103739232007-05-08T01:08:00.000-07:002007-08-20T21:21:51.311-07:00on my way home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwg9EoZUPcurKQkerIJ75SeChqGzrlME6DKSY4rq5nWBj0O3UWZC6firbNwTb_B7xoOIYQIQY43ca6midIBjElxy1eMW4su5OAQqo9sMNuEm5F3YUfPl3VbdTLuH9dLRomy-GvzXFnns/s1600-h/DSC00854.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNwg9EoZUPcurKQkerIJ75SeChqGzrlME6DKSY4rq5nWBj0O3UWZC6firbNwTb_B7xoOIYQIQY43ca6midIBjElxy1eMW4su5OAQqo9sMNuEm5F3YUfPl3VbdTLuH9dLRomy-GvzXFnns/s200/DSC00854.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062284390643697218" /></a>aloha friends and family. we leave honolulu any minute. i can't wait to get home and see and talk to you. i desperately want to know what you've been up to, what i've missed. next time i go away, you're going to have to keep blogs too. i miss you guys so much. also, i can't wait to wake up to sunlight, go to my kitchen, make my own cup of morning coffee, how i like it, and sit on my own deck. i wanted to make sure i had enough luggage and boxes to get all the stuff i bought off the ship, so i've already started packing. while packing i discovered all sorts of stuff that i forgot i bought. i'm tempted to just lay it all out for you guys and say have at it. san juan seems so long ago. <br /><br />students are done with classes. there are a couple of study days, a couple of days of finals, the convocation, a free day (for packing i guess), then san diego. doesn't seem possible that things can change so much so quickly. <br /><br />on my way to the post office to buy a box, i saw the rohwedders on the way to the beach. shaun, baby ryder's (our resident gerber baby) mom, was fumbling around trying to get organized so that mom, dad, baby, and baby things could make their way to the bus that would take them to waikiki beach. she sighed heavily and in exasperation before saying "it never ends". of course, my reply was "it will in a week or so". it took her a good 30 seconds before the reality of it sunk in and and she yelled ahead to me (i had kept walking) "you know you're right", as if she hadn't thought of it before. it's all i think about. <br /><br />it was nice having this u.s. port before arriving back on the mainland, especially california. today, i found myself hesitating when dealing with people. in most countries i at least tried to greet and thank the locals in their native language. in hawaii i found myself wanting to do the same, even when they weren't native hawaiian. getting use to hearing english off the ship is going to be strange, as well as other things i've yet to discover i'm sure.<br /><br />honolulu was a bit of an international experience of it's own. i had an incredible cambodian ginger chicken for lunch, and afro-cuban food, (<a href="http://www.souldecuba.com/">soul de cuba</a>), for dinner while listening to south african jazz and kwaito (south african hip hop music).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgCUrh2paQh5o4NkJ2UA-OOTfvTro2cG6jx_NhDYTUmieoRGdccM5gT9LP-OjNbmiDXcUm3ggyRbe6W-dIOWuAGw-r6tAO1WmZn5paY8RO63-Nw7KyvJhOKvUj95gEz-nqVhnS3b8RUU/s1600-h/DSC00850.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgCUrh2paQh5o4NkJ2UA-OOTfvTro2cG6jx_NhDYTUmieoRGdccM5gT9LP-OjNbmiDXcUm3ggyRbe6W-dIOWuAGw-r6tAO1WmZn5paY8RO63-Nw7KyvJhOKvUj95gEz-nqVhnS3b8RUU/s200/DSC00850.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062286782940481122" /></a>i also discovered another strangling fig.<br /><br />i knew we were back in the u s of a when we had to clear the ship this morning, something we do at each port. rarely is the procedure the same, but the customs process this morning, the first part of clearing the ship, was more confusing than any other port - the good ole inept american bureaucracy. in japan we had to have our temperatures taken the night before and the morning we arrived. the morning we arrived we were walked before a camera-like device, a "thermoscan", that supposedly took our temperatures. personally, i believe it took our picture - you know those facial recognition photo thingys - not our temperatures. very crazy stuff, but they were very clear and efficient about the whole process.<br /><br />after we docked, most of the ship went to waikiki. i passed on beach going with a bunch of twenty year olds with boob jobs. <br /><br />i did some nearby historical and cultural sites; had a "shave ice"; bought a <span style="font-style:italic;">new yorker</span> - yeeees, i'm getting my life back - and saw <span style="font-style:italic;">stomp the yard</span> at a one dollar movie theater. it was the most predictable film ever made, but it was fun watching those bodies move. <br /><br />a few days ago we crossed the international date line so that makes me feel closer to you. in addition, to catch up, we had two may 2nds, one on wednesday and one on thursday. since then we've also had to move our clocks ahead one hour each night. i'm definitely looking forward to keeping good time again, and having time change only twice a year.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qq_9v3A_RYF3YIvKzVl5cQ0mMEeGZZEi7JN490rFId7ugFLicdZm6qLZlSLrxZB4csN4eln8JkvrtQc0HSM8pxyQvnm-pfmqjX3wCzMQnSOr46EDzGUHjn-lOKz3plcsxEHpMBSSxT0/s1600-h/DSC00857.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qq_9v3A_RYF3YIvKzVl5cQ0mMEeGZZEi7JN490rFId7ugFLicdZm6qLZlSLrxZB4csN4eln8JkvrtQc0HSM8pxyQvnm-pfmqjX3wCzMQnSOr46EDzGUHjn-lOKz3plcsxEHpMBSSxT0/s200/DSC00857.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062285236752254546" /></a>love ya, miss ya, see ya soon.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-27012029313731028672007-05-05T15:21:00.000-07:002007-08-20T21:17:31.356-07:00"oh the places we've been""oh the places we've been" is the theme from last night's ambassadors ball, the long awaited formal event of the voyage. if you want to view photos from someone who actually went, you'll have to look elsewhere:<br /><br />it was a beautiful evening.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisgQr4c_mtqPNpovE5Sm0Og7ypOjBOz6rX2lOGBLOr0lBGRqfrQi1ZakUn_ygfRQpBEafFDsbeSicDdYDopTLOARg5ZNPk5y22N0h5d51M33hxoXTwQjoiY1AbokkMwxy2HNzPXbcY2Og/s1600-h/DSC00833.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisgQr4c_mtqPNpovE5Sm0Og7ypOjBOz6rX2lOGBLOr0lBGRqfrQi1ZakUn_ygfRQpBEafFDsbeSicDdYDopTLOARg5ZNPk5y22N0h5d51M33hxoXTwQjoiY1AbokkMwxy2HNzPXbcY2Og/s200/DSC00833.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061214402621113826" /></a><br /><br />from the garden lounge deck at dinner, with the whole place to ourselves, since we (judyie and i) were pretty much the last to arrive for the half hour serving time for the 30 or so non-conformists who chose not to attend.<br /><br />judyie with crew members who had the honor of working the dinner detail for us:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZgt39m87TEBLg9cE5DfLooJ3OyK4xfczfBD8G4ME9LiuvlINvztvOm8QMZgkNIMVYinDYd5v3C63AjH_j7MkqmpbUAGJ6jLLwf1MQ4tcoGItZC8ED5vvammYrp0H6JBhthFYxrpCdzw/s1600-h/DSC00834.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZgt39m87TEBLg9cE5DfLooJ3OyK4xfczfBD8G4ME9LiuvlINvztvOm8QMZgkNIMVYinDYd5v3C63AjH_j7MkqmpbUAGJ6jLLwf1MQ4tcoGItZC8ED5vvammYrp0H6JBhthFYxrpCdzw/s200/DSC00834.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061207380349584802" /></a><br /><br />young, gifted, and black attendees, robin and hanan. hanan is borrowing face paint from mom judyie while we watch, chat and work on a bottle of wine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiheLJhB7faysoumIb1udHhQE8ux7zlH6Ib7puGitQRQ-aTo2yUSfFQLO1eWhNXKLFObZVzsKym8OgHHusIANdi4IKt2raywyRScCfqzeuSu4IIh9aV5eGTN6ONnjknxdjSrAC9LTfVHLA/s1600-h/DSC00832.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiheLJhB7faysoumIb1udHhQE8ux7zlH6Ib7puGitQRQ-aTo2yUSfFQLO1eWhNXKLFObZVzsKym8OgHHusIANdi4IKt2raywyRScCfqzeuSu4IIh9aV5eGTN6ONnjknxdjSrAC9LTfVHLA/s200/DSC00832.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061215935924438514" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIeGU9Bm-1es1cEvc5ibpFbkwsswcF4RsGzwSo5e8zBADp9yMotFVrrk2m7EuvuOrbsAkAlovm2h2cYn5AWU_xmqaVJARyL2bJVN0g7GgGWLzhdnTUCxMsHtIrAKyLuWQ3c7tFqGMIiMs/s1600-h/DSC00841.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIeGU9Bm-1es1cEvc5ibpFbkwsswcF4RsGzwSo5e8zBADp9yMotFVrrk2m7EuvuOrbsAkAlovm2h2cYn5AWU_xmqaVJARyL2bJVN0g7GgGWLzhdnTUCxMsHtIrAKyLuWQ3c7tFqGMIiMs/s200/DSC00841.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061219290293896722" /></a><br /><br />after all the wine was gone, it wasn't guite as glamorous, but a few of us with less impressive rooms continued to hang out in judyie's, enjoying her comfy sofa, king size bed, balcony, ocean views, the sound of the ocean, and the laughter.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidm4wk1CMwWQvw-XzG0IhPZoBNAk5-PBv_kjOsWqIu6NJo-roSPIZiih3YQaefelOAAAcjekv_PV7WnI6is_1CzKeDj5PcxQwEgDyvCMKaL3L_M4LWWkClBIpMd2xjrvo40386J5VolLc/s1600-h/DSC00840.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidm4wk1CMwWQvw-XzG0IhPZoBNAk5-PBv_kjOsWqIu6NJo-roSPIZiih3YQaefelOAAAcjekv_PV7WnI6is_1CzKeDj5PcxQwEgDyvCMKaL3L_M4LWWkClBIpMd2xjrvo40386J5VolLc/s200/DSC00840.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061208634480035266" /></a>Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-43616536803491432562007-04-29T16:58:00.000-07:002007-08-20T21:15:55.437-07:00the "developed world"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbSpLZaVAM6dxQrL4NKCqA82tIOVLsLSYkv8yLygApLhyphenhyphenA04RN1t8cvFORnRHPEx7FJIVeRpLtlGtCrQqtZYkuenfi9y2vBFIbKAsSyW9x4vCIJvxgeGvr5w_k6hEFXXjjXV39HyfqJU/s1600-h/DSC00753.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbSpLZaVAM6dxQrL4NKCqA82tIOVLsLSYkv8yLygApLhyphenhyphenA04RN1t8cvFORnRHPEx7FJIVeRpLtlGtCrQqtZYkuenfi9y2vBFIbKAsSyW9x4vCIJvxgeGvr5w_k6hEFXXjjXV39HyfqJU/s200/DSC00753.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059056585281799490" /></a>what i've seen of japan is clean, quiet and orderly - environmentally and socially. the streets are immaculate, everything is landscaped and sculpted, even plants and trees that aren't intended to be. for example, pine trees. i haven't seen anyone who looks poor, definitely not homeless. except for their ethnicity, most people look like they just stepped from the pages of either elle, gq, vibe, or rolling stone. i saw one building that looked like it could be the projects, but i didn't see any people there - definitely not the projects. people watching from an overpass at the central train station in kobe during the lunch rush, the streets were crowded with people and cars, but it was quiet. no car horns, no one raising their voices, swarms of people crossing the streets in an orderly fashion at the light. quiet.<br /><br />i was tempted to blow off japan, it being our last international port. at this point, the thought of even thinking about planning travel, is tiring. notice i said thinking about planning travel, not traveling. no matter how fatigued one gets thinking about disembarking at another port (especially when there were only two days between china and japan, and less than a week before we were in vietnam - seems like ages ago), once you get out in the streets, one is revitalized by the hustle and bustle of another place. <br /><br />other than honolulu and san diego, japan is the only port in what is referred to as the developed world. during the japan logistical preport, we were warned about sticker shock (protecting one's assets can be interpreted more literally here) and fixed prices (no haggling), rather than the water, mosquitoes, crime, muffler burns, and rabid monkeys and dogs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfzIVdWEfTnWi37sO44F6S76fC5NMT5wpa2Aipl4PsYbfdcDOYMRG6ZBYJREd6JwsrSkIDV70ylP7T-2KPbBoTTh5o6ww8l4J4PJ0Kq0OpjqqEIolhIn385ofUW5W1MGna5UJcddrnmI/s1600-h/DSC00752.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfzIVdWEfTnWi37sO44F6S76fC5NMT5wpa2Aipl4PsYbfdcDOYMRG6ZBYJREd6JwsrSkIDV70ylP7T-2KPbBoTTh5o6ww8l4J4PJ0Kq0OpjqqEIolhIn385ofUW5W1MGna5UJcddrnmI/s200/DSC00752.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059041887903712466" /></a>my only plans for japan, were a s@s arranged homestay, which would be two days of hanging out in japan, where all i had to do was meet and greet the family i'd be staying with, and be charming. that would happen day two. day one i decided to just tag along with lesly (dr. matt's wife), dr. matt, and gloria (anthropology prof.). by the end of the day we had used the citibank atm (atms are generally the first stop at each port) picked up their rail passes at the train station, ate fresh baked chocolate covered belgian waffles (rum raisin and maple were also available), resisted the hagen daz shop, ate noodles, visited the botanical garden, bought a japanese style smock like wrap fron "hondya", a store that specializes in original japanese designs, checked out a pachinko parlor (think chain smoking japanese at slot machines; and the nosiest places in japan if not the world), people watched, and walked, and walked, and walked. not bad for not planning anything. i've always said my favorite days are those when there is nothing that i have to do. apparently, it can be applied away from home too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVXU9iOpZIUgmrvWYM8xtR5cWV3WBJ6Ky9h3uqA49_Rt1JZiVoAoZF6nXG9vIHXQPMRObmXb8Au7Klx9_T9TKdGZMvYfC0YkRA65dpaW-yUwCDdLcluc6-7nd3skNmRBKG13ExmYMgIY/s1600-h/DSC00757.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVXU9iOpZIUgmrvWYM8xtR5cWV3WBJ6Ky9h3uqA49_Rt1JZiVoAoZF6nXG9vIHXQPMRObmXb8Au7Klx9_T9TKdGZMvYfC0YkRA65dpaW-yUwCDdLcluc6-7nd3skNmRBKG13ExmYMgIY/s200/DSC00757.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059046023957218546" /></a>the next day i met takako and kiyoshi (pictured) ikoma. after a brief shipboard program for all homestay participants, the families took a s@s student, staff or faculty person home with them. kiyoshi and takako are 69 and 70 year old retirees. kiyosho use to work for panasonic and takako was a teacher. they live in hirkata, located between osaka and kyoto, and not far from nara. takako wasn't with kiyoshi when he picked me up at the ship. she was participating in a kimono club fashion show (i saw 500 women in kimonos) at the ritz carlton in osaka. we would pick her up on our way to their home in hikarta. kiyoshi and i took the train to pick up takako. then, together, we walked the probably two kilometers to their place, stopping for tea and roll cake at a cafe housed in a space set-up like a traditional japanese home, with low ceilings, tatami maps, screens, linens, and pottery that would have been used in the past. i would soon find out why they thought the cafe was such a quaint novelty that i had to see - takako and kiyoshi have a much more modern life, with all sorts of gagets and conveniences. after the cafe, we walked through the narrow streets of hirkata, stopping at a pottery store, some bakeries, and a boutique where she bought me some japanese slippers made of folded fabric.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4f9pJoW-Q-_uwYwWDYQ7XK0venfNxs9RT3b6TBsqpGkj7GNbzH-aJzugtBTuZMydrhQ7d5IBOP41LNm8tyFexYuVC-bQJWCtsbS452txNn27IKrGQt14RDNj2QHMyLqoPj2blPgYr6zM/s1600-h/DSC00762.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4f9pJoW-Q-_uwYwWDYQ7XK0venfNxs9RT3b6TBsqpGkj7GNbzH-aJzugtBTuZMydrhQ7d5IBOP41LNm8tyFexYuVC-bQJWCtsbS452txNn27IKrGQt14RDNj2QHMyLqoPj2blPgYr6zM/s200/DSC00762.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059043550056056034" /></a>as retirees takako (pictured) says "everyday is sunday, we don't do anything". on the contrary they seem to fill their time, well. takako, with her kimona club, hippo family club (the language learning club that organizes homestays), and doll making. kiyoshi and i had lunch together (best seafood i've had outside of new orleans and todos santos) in the subway station en route to meeting takako. he told me then that on mondays and wednesdays, he goes to the gym, tuesdays he goes to yoga, and the rest of the time he does chores and plays golf - now how sweet is that. they have three kids, one in malaysia, and have close relationships with korean and american students that lived with them while studying in japan. they have traveled extensively and have things from all over the world in their home, a condo in a highrise with big views of the region.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaYBb7VYc6BldXdyHG29lAFnpFIb4V0HvGvELdNNiXxdcT-z9_8RmJbrOHGq64TRXNNvmrX8obnvyWqjya0JC1wMH5Mbhdr-NAhEI25SX6hgMJQWhjbhnk_CRe7M5OLfdgvzj_0RRwdoQ/s1600-h/DSC00764.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaYBb7VYc6BldXdyHG29lAFnpFIb4V0HvGvELdNNiXxdcT-z9_8RmJbrOHGq64TRXNNvmrX8obnvyWqjya0JC1wMH5Mbhdr-NAhEI25SX6hgMJQWhjbhnk_CRe7M5OLfdgvzj_0RRwdoQ/s200/DSC00764.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059048360419427586" /></a><br /><br />their modern condo has a shower and tub that requires a phd to figure out. but, my favorite gaget of theirs is an electronic japanese-english dictionary. we visited three museums in nara together, two of which had gardens - this is japan after all. it became a challenge for me to provide the english name for the flower or tree before takako's electronic dictionary could. the first night she served me a salty tea with a cherry blossom in it. i asked why her and kiyoshi weren't having the same, she simply replied "for guests only". <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLUpF29IWzssVHDFB01oja3jpYNaNb9BZrDZQuodRjJdBkZrmt1xt_-lEVbYtIlTlHd4YFej_fdNDWYahXT4SBs1y00EiLOb-t21IZybtwtN_iQi2SxS9h1MNjanAnqoJUK8AhdIzRsm4/s1600-h/DSC00765.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLUpF29IWzssVHDFB01oja3jpYNaNb9BZrDZQuodRjJdBkZrmt1xt_-lEVbYtIlTlHd4YFej_fdNDWYahXT4SBs1y00EiLOb-t21IZybtwtN_iQi2SxS9h1MNjanAnqoJUK8AhdIzRsm4/s200/DSC00765.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059081685070677362" /></a>here is takako and i in front of a cherry blossom at the shohaku art museum that was exhibiting the paintings of uemura shoen. shoen perfected a genre of modern japanese painting known as "bijinga", or paintings of beautiful women. she's also the first japanese woman artist to receive the "order of cultural merit". the wisteria was also photographed on the museum grounds.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCM3bSKl-dflzJYAq62mwdVHZCAuINeqTIOne-rDP8iealoUBLLtBf2dYtpr_J9Lc7J3OXywfr1vO-7VDvPQvgALOGQJ6dUdrbl_bRjms5JAWdDdStCzQdaXUtKwHE9vwVifDASYZaR4/s1600-h/DSC00772+(2).JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDCM3bSKl-dflzJYAq62mwdVHZCAuINeqTIOne-rDP8iealoUBLLtBf2dYtpr_J9Lc7J3OXywfr1vO-7VDvPQvgALOGQJ6dUdrbl_bRjms5JAWdDdStCzQdaXUtKwHE9vwVifDASYZaR4/s200/DSC00772+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059058762830218578" /></a><br /><br />there are at least five control panels near the door in the family room. i have no idea what all were for, but when it came time for me to bathe before bedtime, i found out that one was the intercom to the bath tub, which also tells you when the tub water is full and what temperature the water is. i'm not going to give a detailed description of the bathroom, i'll just say it's two rooms, spacious, and when i sit upright in the tub, the water comes above my arm pits, and my favorite, the water stays warm. there's a heater in the tub. that's not all that's heated. <br /><br />the biggest adjustment to being in a new country, or away from home in general, can be adjusting to different bathroom facilities or more specifically their toilets. i can do a lengthy blog posting on international toliets. since mauritius, squat toliets have been the norm, which are just a couple notches above the latrines we dug at escola formigas du futuro when i was working in angola. however, the major advantage of squat toliets are that they have plumbing, including porcelin bowls built into the ground. the difficulty is getting your butt close enough to the ground and the bowl. there are porcelin foot grips, but believe me, they won't prevent you from falling over. there just there so you know where to put your feet.<br /><br />according to shirley, one of our guides in xi'an, china's reputation for poor toilets was so bad that it was incentive for the folks at the wild goose pagoda to build what she referred to as a ten star toilet, which she showed us upon arrival. given all the toilets i've seen abroad and at home, a simple toilet seat doesn't qualify as a ten star toilet, which is pretty much what she directed us to. i'd rather have a squat toilet (i've pretty much mastered them by now), in a clean facility, a stall that had toilet paper, a hook/tray for ones belongings (squatting with handbags and souvenirs doesn't work), soap, water and a way to dry one's hand at the end of the process. <br /><br />japan has the holy grail of toilets. the first one i encountered looked so complicated that i chose the simpler squat toilet, because there was less of a learning curve. the main difference between the japanese toilets, other than all the buttons and hardware, is noticed immediately upon sitting down - the seat is very warm. roman letters are a rarity in japan, so the multitude of buttons to push on the armrest of the toilet (actually, it's probably just a control panel, not intended to be an armrest) are totally indecipherable for those of us who don't read japanese. i'd later encounter a similar panel with pictures, but at that moment i was on a ritz carlton toilet with a lot of buttons tempting the hell out me. i pressed one. warm water shot between my legs. there was considerable water pressure. it wasn't unpleasant, but soon thereafter i was ready for it to stop. after all, kiyoshi was waiting for me. i thought, like automatic flushing toilets, it would stop on it's own. it didn't. hummm, how to make it stop? is there a motion detector? lift up a little, see if it stops. nope, didn't work. refer back to control panel - many buttons, many japanese characters - no clue. once i was able to see beyond the buttons and characters, i saw the colors, including red. halleluja! i'm outta here.<br /><br />the toilet at the ikoma's was similar, except that the control panel was on the wall and it had pictures, in addition to water between ones legs, air was possible. malaysia's toilets are similar in concept, but more rudimentary - they simply provide a water hose that extends from the wall. i didn't want to talk at length about toilets, but it's hard not to given the differences, and the fact that toilets are something you must experience in every country. one can get away with not eating the local food, using the public transportation, or speaking the language, but...<br /><br />one more quick sexist toilet sidebar. while working for habitat for humanity in new orleans there was one of many outhouses designated for women. the difference was that it had a mirror.<br /><br />back to the homestay. for those blog readers who are planning to do s@s in the future, if you haven't figured it out from my india and japan postings, in port, homestays are the way to go. they are the best way to see a place. you get your own personal tour guide, great accommodations, transportation, home cooked meals, introduced to great restaurants and more. i was a little nervous, because i figured the family would be expecting a white college student. but, i figured if they're willing to host some random person this way, they must be pretty flexible and openminded. however, someone had put some thought into pairing people up, because the ikoma's and i were a good match, and probably more unusual than the average participant. i don't think one of our s@s wild childs would have enjoyed the ikoma's as much as i. from what i overheard in the dining hall, the many other s@s students who did homestays seem to have had a really good time too. most were assigned to younger families with kids, from toddlers to teenagers. there were probably some nightmares too, but i'm keeping it positive until i hear otherwise. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRWQasXiU4W_L0a5vG6aoHzu9iO-Ay1QvkhJfh2-4h7XP9CE-T6gBFyZxNgYugSUdpBT2Edt7rYixCFIhJPUk9_q-hzr858GvMpCo2EA34UvPYccQfiFPPHkdNFrllgK9nvCOtNY3TTU8/s1600-h/DSC00783.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRWQasXiU4W_L0a5vG6aoHzu9iO-Ay1QvkhJfh2-4h7XP9CE-T6gBFyZxNgYugSUdpBT2Edt7rYixCFIhJPUk9_q-hzr858GvMpCo2EA34UvPYccQfiFPPHkdNFrllgK9nvCOtNY3TTU8/s200/DSC00783.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059084502569223554" /></a>the first night at the ikoma's, takako pretty much fed me from the time we got home until shortly before bed,including a wonderful traditional osaka dish she prepared. we also looked at maps, family pictures (i wish i had brought some; i did bring them some south african wine), and watched some japanese baseball on tv. the following day, before taking me back to the ship, we visited two fine art museums in the suburbs of nara. we had lunch (tempura and soba noodles) at a restaurant before heading to the big regional attraction, the todai-ji temple (8th century; pictured), where the great buddha vairocana - the biggest buddha you'll ever see - with thousands of other tourists, including a s@s bus load. they were going back to the ship on a bus with 40 others and i would ride back with the ikoma's in their mercedes. <br /><br />my second great adventure/discovery in japan was another day where i had no plans. i slept in read and planned to hit the streets around noon. luck would have it that by the time i was ready to leave the ship, judyie (theater prof.) and mary (religious studies prof.) had plans to walk across the bridge to the park. outside the ship, to the left was a bridge that appeared to lead to an industrial area. to the right was the portliner subway to the kobe city center and transportation to all other parts of japan. most of us had gotten use to getting off the ship and hopping on the subway. An unchartered area without the subway, endless shops, neon and the masses was looking pretty appealing on a very pleasant spring day in japan, our last. the area across the bridge turned out to be the antithesis of the city - two parks connected by a singular walkway - one with smooth giant rocks to climb and warm one's body on, and a peace park with peace memorials from cities around the world. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxOtZdXNBsr1VSc3bVay8oRm0WX-a5YU9pn7Mu7f5enjcrOW7_ZbShZKt4ApzuzmuUXsLt5F8P3ceHGLv65HUmaOzgjJwnerooe4ww-PCo6k1a0j0cLQooQ7FEA9e683D9sIaHEnG5efs/s1600-h/DSC00810.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxOtZdXNBsr1VSc3bVay8oRm0WX-a5YU9pn7Mu7f5enjcrOW7_ZbShZKt4ApzuzmuUXsLt5F8P3ceHGLv65HUmaOzgjJwnerooe4ww-PCo6k1a0j0cLQooQ7FEA9e683D9sIaHEnG5efs/s200/DSC00810.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059052496472933666" /></a>the whole way was lined with public gardens (mostly un-japanese like cottage gardeny beds of flowers. there also was a green cafe surrounded by a wooded area, a flea market, an eco store promoting recycling by selling second hand stuff, basically it was just a thrift store - the most orderly, and cleanest, i've ever seen. this day was the beginning of the golden days holiday period so families were out playing, picnicing and barbecuing in the park. as we were strolling in the area, what ultimately drew us to the peace park at the end of the trail was drumming, very african like drumming. there were drums, other percussion instruments, and three girls, one in the shortest shorts i've ever seen and platform shoes, another in similar attire with stilettos. they could have been flygirls in a musicvideo. it was very reminiscent of brazil - tits, ass and lots of percussions. they didn't have much in terms of t&a, but what they did have they were shaking it seriously. i would love to know the history of this area. most (last photo is an exception) of the space was so unjapanese like in it's seemingly improvised and unmanicured nature, with an emphasis on peace, and the environment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOd2okJ9S2pyyO8IyUZmE_ilGpeOCC8DFicM3tpA0U9W1vzsrawukfiV_qulogk6i0OLsF7Qm4PfGP9QyKExDBdtAC2OLZVWD2B_QLgno_jZwAlxT7p4jaCbZkzAlVSfBwfo_XFQ7cVs/s1600-h/DSC00804.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQOd2okJ9S2pyyO8IyUZmE_ilGpeOCC8DFicM3tpA0U9W1vzsrawukfiV_qulogk6i0OLsF7Qm4PfGP9QyKExDBdtAC2OLZVWD2B_QLgno_jZwAlxT7p4jaCbZkzAlVSfBwfo_XFQ7cVs/s200/DSC00804.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059055575964484914" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS9gECzCj65DKNntCQic2MqJlQDdQXvxF2acqWb9YWtSzUDvsaAc13lyV4MgViH62NDBHwZbNcEzfveZbpiEq1OM6BZ5EtDfF9mkAUw-Re44t6tR3cKpouwvYZO8VaRz2uawC-JK3k89M/s1600-h/DSC00808.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS9gECzCj65DKNntCQic2MqJlQDdQXvxF2acqWb9YWtSzUDvsaAc13lyV4MgViH62NDBHwZbNcEzfveZbpiEq1OM6BZ5EtDfF9mkAUw-Re44t6tR3cKpouwvYZO8VaRz2uawC-JK3k89M/s200/DSC00808.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059060326198314338" /></a>Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-59967884126878844932007-04-24T02:03:00.000-07:002007-08-19T12:48:27.222-07:00beijing and xi'an14 sites in 4 days, including 8 history museums (2 had multiple buildings) in two days. i'm not the type of traveler that needs to see everything a place has to offer (not possible in any chinese city i'm sure, but the tour agencies cram as much in as possible). i can be content seeing a couple of key attractions and stumbling around discovering things on my own and meeting people. this is not the chinese way. chinese tourism is an art form in and of itself. i've spent most of my life on the california coast, where people come from all over the world to drive highway one. seeing bus loads of asian tourists on california highways and in cities like san francisco and la is common. busloads doesn't begin to explain the volume of mostly asian tourists in beijing and xi'an. the orchestration of it all is mind boggling. everywhere we went there were buses loading and unloading tourists, tour guides carrying company flags (we only had a white flyer enclosed in plastic which ming, our guide, raised over his head for us to follow) to keep their herds together. herds were also identifiable by the baseball caps, t-shirts, or badges the tour agency distributed so that the tour guides can identify their group members from a distance, just in case one should stray. s@s lost one at summer palace (she ran into another s@s group and made it back to the ship). some had bull horns (we didn't) so that you can actually hear what they were saying (the history and significance of the place, how long you had to stay there, where the toliets were, when the bus was leaving etc.) amongst the many chattering guides and tourists. you can sum up the whole process in a mastercard commercial:<br /><br />the great wall of china. tinanamen square. the forbidden city. tour guide. three meals a day. flag and bullhorn, priceless.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbVTxxYayPcCdUbOGsQvWj3IgHGaiSKNzj_huyNPGdzQ0BjId6tc97w-ZxaMPim860IVJ2i9l1-JPwQd-XPpjzHrQNdhdY_x-FT7I49tLwhEoDsVYxKMvWwj05wn65TpofM3KAQaMfYhA/s1600-h/DSC00680.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbVTxxYayPcCdUbOGsQvWj3IgHGaiSKNzj_huyNPGdzQ0BjId6tc97w-ZxaMPim860IVJ2i9l1-JPwQd-XPpjzHrQNdhdY_x-FT7I49tLwhEoDsVYxKMvWwj05wn65TpofM3KAQaMfYhA/s200/DSC00680.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056944506385127186" /></a>the enormity of the production at most every site we visited (the forest of stone tablets was an exception) was mesmerizing and tiring, but no matter how weary one became, one was continuously awestruck by the grandeur of chinese history - the dynasties; the emperors - their lives, their deaths, their palaces; and the pottery, costumes, and philosophies of long ago. while we saw what seems like a lot of museums and sites, beijing and xi'an, the cites we visited, have many many more. believe me there is no shortage of history museums in china. there's something very wonderous about visiting such an old civilization and being able to stand before, and in some cases, touch objects from such a distance past. i felt quite privileged. it saddens me to think of the ancient artifacts lost in iraq, because the myopic and culturally insensitive u.s. government didn't have the intellectual capacity to think of protecting them during the fall of baghdad. it angers me that myself and others will not be able to see those lost artifacts of "our" civilization.<br /><br />we arrived in beijing at 1600, then checked into the jianguo garden hotel in the tiananmen square-forbidden city area. you can probably fit two of my houses in the hotel lobby. beijing didn't seem as croweded as you might think, given the size of the population. chennai, india felt much more populated. all the asian cities seem to have had major traffic problems, and i'm not talking about how they drive, just good old fashion congestion. rush hour in beijing is from 7-10 in the morning and 17-2000 at night. however, when i went out at 2130 one night it sure seemed like rush hour to me.<br /><br />i'm not going to bore you with a play by play of our generally 5 day, 12 hour day itinerary, but below is a list of the places we visited in beijing and xi'an. after two days in beijing we flew to xi'an, then back to qindao, where the ship moved to while we were traveling.<br /><br />DAY ONE IN BEIJING:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjO_6A1Z2T2N0SeI8c7COjjPWY9c7MgBPUo8sOWmkxaxkyCj-6QyxBxeEibNF6fySpo7XYJi0bB9BQ47k-lrJx56OR3OzLZAglIFV0vMIibYFi_dvvAGsZ8wgIOsFik42LZzifjh4BZ2A/s1600-h/DSC00671.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjO_6A1Z2T2N0SeI8c7COjjPWY9c7MgBPUo8sOWmkxaxkyCj-6QyxBxeEibNF6fySpo7XYJi0bB9BQ47k-lrJx56OR3OzLZAglIFV0vMIibYFi_dvvAGsZ8wgIOsFik42LZzifjh4BZ2A/s200/DSC00671.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056921708698719906" /></a><br />the great wall of china. i climbed the 2000 odd stairs to the top. some of the steps are at least a foot high. it wasn't a long distance, but it was quite the incline, and they were steps. i didn't think i'd make it, but the old people coming down, not even breathing heavy, shamed me into going the distance. in case my heart stopped, i tried to stay close to dr. matt.<br /><br />summer palace, an expansive spread, where an emperor and his daughters lived.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSycSfB9_PULgFO5zXuEaY-139EXVfkz3sHXkZgWd3zdtKQkN-ay1LNdu8x-NSjDmrVOATb0n7BXM8Y-ACRJMl3xJdli_v4jwUyVg_NjNr6MlHXtMGYxOBAG63mFYRlxsw0YUQNwMyRY0/s1600-h/DSC00685.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSycSfB9_PULgFO5zXuEaY-139EXVfkz3sHXkZgWd3zdtKQkN-ay1LNdu8x-NSjDmrVOATb0n7BXM8Y-ACRJMl3xJdli_v4jwUyVg_NjNr6MlHXtMGYxOBAG63mFYRlxsw0YUQNwMyRY0/s200/DSC00685.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056922928469431986" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2bA9FqIo3vAgrH-D3Xi4Jkjp4knP6-qoIigNjUSOl9pXrHrD8hEwfN6KH3dHG6psLA26jHJagxgnz7UIsiK3R8HmHxOB79rr7pqy5RhSLdEgfLoXHqCqZHm2RudutcBL-cGYJiJRAcQg/s1600-h/DSC00690.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2bA9FqIo3vAgrH-D3Xi4Jkjp4knP6-qoIigNjUSOl9pXrHrD8hEwfN6KH3dHG6psLA26jHJagxgnz7UIsiK3R8HmHxOB79rr7pqy5RhSLdEgfLoXHqCqZHm2RudutcBL-cGYJiJRAcQg/s200/DSC00690.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056924380168378050" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdYdsJfLxdvFh3iS7iq7EdH6kqNMnx5cWg-PZVpXeg3VVYTa4JOdJGqQOTIuyK6G-MdmoKegfdyVTOuRwB8k2A0UptbfYgOpWTu_44jUCdiZRUxH7A5rKIEr4YsWH_n-Wpd6VlSGfTK0/s1600-h/DSC00696.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdYdsJfLxdvFh3iS7iq7EdH6kqNMnx5cWg-PZVpXeg3VVYTa4JOdJGqQOTIuyK6G-MdmoKegfdyVTOuRwB8k2A0UptbfYgOpWTu_44jUCdiZRUxH7A5rKIEr4YsWH_n-Wpd6VlSGfTK0/s200/DSC00696.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056925501154842322" /></a><br /><br />DAY TWO IN BEIJING:<br /><br />tiananamen square:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXxl3LmgOWdkGdF7rngA6ssz_xP9JmgwC92JUHxnIE99tFaYRWLSOJudw6XnxXH6-4V4AF618ZhZWL_jd8At1GWZergiu3vD0kVkhFBlgOPeNbjedhAWkpF1uFK6eVq-F7jjCoLLZnn08/s1600-h/DSC00717.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXxl3LmgOWdkGdF7rngA6ssz_xP9JmgwC92JUHxnIE99tFaYRWLSOJudw6XnxXH6-4V4AF618ZhZWL_jd8At1GWZergiu3vD0kVkhFBlgOPeNbjedhAWkpF1uFK6eVq-F7jjCoLLZnn08/s200/DSC00717.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056926652206077666" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZGzxggmPnW9ZjsdkR0NP50s5POmaoy1AbKG9Z9fJuLSaOEmMtKUB5hfnZHrK9VgqpoYMQtYCVEHsdLrpiDCytP4MDiBBDUry1Zx-HY543rpChdlrYgHprHoJxZ0gk_yPsSG3K12ZiXzc/s1600-h/DSC00718.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZGzxggmPnW9ZjsdkR0NP50s5POmaoy1AbKG9Z9fJuLSaOEmMtKUB5hfnZHrK9VgqpoYMQtYCVEHsdLrpiDCytP4MDiBBDUry1Zx-HY543rpChdlrYgHprHoJxZ0gk_yPsSG3K12ZiXzc/s200/DSC00718.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056919831798011538" /></a><br /><br />forbidden city:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dRbmyoTB9GNd-M7pW_VMUnkFcx9aYk36oEK2vODQV41Dv4kkRD9sCf_jGPyo43aDkGi_-TId0efTwfbp7mcfkUB2EaNvH_xMhnLGT-jZ20GDiTVZiXzzeKH3NLvjpWytvDqvUMWwnLo/s1600-h/DSC00723.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dRbmyoTB9GNd-M7pW_VMUnkFcx9aYk36oEK2vODQV41Dv4kkRD9sCf_jGPyo43aDkGi_-TId0efTwfbp7mcfkUB2EaNvH_xMhnLGT-jZ20GDiTVZiXzzeKH3NLvjpWytvDqvUMWwnLo/s200/DSC00723.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056945906544465698" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnG1F8T8pRJeM3WwR7Am83bhqqQmw4gLKOIwoZRIZziKbHpljwRhLKfZlsm35_DmRO0wh9jwesada8_xhuhWe-lu5LpG2j_IZRke6-fx8jzp4y_vMF1yhx9KWrE9W9WWgohPKdAX1W7xU/s1600-h/DSC00724.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnG1F8T8pRJeM3WwR7Am83bhqqQmw4gLKOIwoZRIZziKbHpljwRhLKfZlsm35_DmRO0wh9jwesada8_xhuhWe-lu5LpG2j_IZRke6-fx8jzp4y_vMF1yhx9KWrE9W9WWgohPKdAX1W7xU/s200/DSC00724.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056948023963342658" /></a><br /><br />temple of heaven (no photo)<br /><br />DAY ONE IN XI'AN (the oldest city in china, and where the silk road began):<br /><br />big wild goose pagoda:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzWOvSJxAjNLcR5YRjjyDFWG9k-VC0G4xLRZU5XtzPcZhGFywUQ0R8dM_jk2kxEoc4tFV-ipqm3U0a6CLbjseWDfVfPbBt6TgnZKQ0oHpDRB3RD7A3-8h7krn5_aZeFnnb-AfM0JJ3fI/s1600-h/DSC00736+(2).JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzWOvSJxAjNLcR5YRjjyDFWG9k-VC0G4xLRZU5XtzPcZhGFywUQ0R8dM_jk2kxEoc4tFV-ipqm3U0a6CLbjseWDfVfPbBt6TgnZKQ0oHpDRB3RD7A3-8h7krn5_aZeFnnb-AfM0JJ3fI/s200/DSC00736+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056947104840341298" /></a><br /><br />shaanxi provincial museum (no photo)<br /><br />terra cotta warriors museum:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yZXzwmF2aDiZQYSH7wDSEl6xhAuDlkgBOiHe1Phl8xVlxg2bC7ZrFiZoC0ntgYyt-6x3HPps3bUxLPcIRLZ8RizCYeM_IOTHUqXQKIvrE8lyny9Zz0XZ4uCLEpF7YOS8WF7OanqdT3Y/s1600-h/DSC00743.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yZXzwmF2aDiZQYSH7wDSEl6xhAuDlkgBOiHe1Phl8xVlxg2bC7ZrFiZoC0ntgYyt-6x3HPps3bUxLPcIRLZ8RizCYeM_IOTHUqXQKIvrE8lyny9Zz0XZ4uCLEpF7YOS8WF7OanqdT3Y/s200/DSC00743.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056950957426005858" /></a><br /><br />DAY TWO IN XI'AN (my camera battery died, but the highlights included):<br /><br />--calligraphy lesson (much fun)<br />--forest of stone tablets, china's great books (this capped off a very nice literary morning)<br />--bell tower and the peoples square (opted out for reading under a tree in the square)<br />--yang tombs of the han dynasty, comprised of two museum buildings driving distance apart<br /><br />in between all this siteseeing was three heavy chinese meals a day; above average temps, so no respite from the heat (some repieve from the humidity), a thick hazy air pollution that had me coughing and my eyes watering again; and endless kitschy shopping opportunities. between the hello hawkers and the the souvenir shops at every turn - even as one ascends the great wall, where each tower is accompanied by vendors. the chinese have seriously embraced capitalism. i guess it's a good thing, because who would the u.s. be able to borrow so much money from. <br /><br />the 2008 olympics will be in beijing. much construction was going on everywhere, and the hello hawkers were selling all sorts of memorialbilia already. we passed by the "birdsnest" the stadium for the opening ceremony. i've never been to an olympics before so i'm sure there is an orderly way to host the world community, but considering the masses of tourists i saw at places like tinananemen square and the forbidden city, the only way i can imagine there being enough room in beijing is if the chinese stay home. <br /><br />navigating china is no joke either. although i whine about the hop on hop off tours, i can't imagine trying to navigate beijing or xi'an without being able to speak or read mandarin. for monolinguals planning to visit, i recommend staying at a luxury hotel with a good concierge. tell the concierge where you want to go; he or she will write the address on a hotel business card for you to give to the taxi driver. the card is prepared just for this reason. on the back of the card it says in english and mandarin "please drive me to". the concierge fills in the address.<br /><br />my only opportunity to do some exploring on my own was our first night in beijing, where dinner and the rest of the evening was at our leisure. most of the group decided to attend an acrobatics show. i'm not much of a group person and there's only a handful of people i know i enjoy traveling with, mostly because they're all comfortable walking alot and hanging together or apart when necessary. more importantly, they will always make time to read. well, i had found three live jazz venues in the lonely planet (lp) guide. two of them looked worthwhile. one even served cajun food, along with live new orleans jazz, the blues, and r&b. the concierge called them for me (i had photocopies of the the lp pages), to make sure they were open, still at the cited location, and had live music that night. the only cheap thing (good thing there are few fixed prices)in beijing, other than the hello hawkers' souvenirs is cab fare. on hello hawkers: you can get much for one dollar from these new capitalists. right now, their english is limited to "hello" and "one dollar". <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPEC9gd2v13xKAGLX3I60mJLc4iyV2Tm_bXx8yQHX9AcIAfifrPchWE5UW0nwD9JHL7j8EeFS_pKi9Zy3vMuVAIKT5P2eClBR85YYW4BC3OGn8RM42NAlTVncHNnHDXCQYufS2zAl7yI/s1600-h/DSC00706.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPEC9gd2v13xKAGLX3I60mJLc4iyV2Tm_bXx8yQHX9AcIAfifrPchWE5UW0nwD9JHL7j8EeFS_pKi9Zy3vMuVAIKT5P2eClBR85YYW4BC3OGn8RM42NAlTVncHNnHDXCQYufS2zAl7yI/s200/DSC00706.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056927511199536882" /></a>after having indian food at the hotel i was off to the "cd jazz cafe". the crosstown fare was only $3 (21 yuan). i paid $5 (35 yuan) for a capucinno. the club was small and could have been in greenwich village. photos of jazz greats and celebrity visitors covered the walls. on stage, a quintet of young asian musicians played all sorts of jazz classics. gwyne, a young chinese vocalists, sat in on a few numbers. this little lady had much soul and was delightful to listen to. when i got there i was homesick. when i left i wanted to stay in beijing longer. in part because i found a "time out beijing" in english, with page after page of music, theater, art and literature listings, and articles about contemporary beijing intellectuals and issues of interest to them. in contrat, everything on our intinerary was at least 1000 years old. the sites we'd visit in xi'an were from 2000-3000 years ago.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ci4utK69f5GRJlauadbkWLmzea50Trb9KJBxsgxLfyZbiYeOGZFjdm3MsBl1rRBUXN7tilKtttbuj4xsjRAdqyosiPnCiI_5d2Li1MpIjgH_7S0RJIQglXIBHnAVVhIBOS14GssC3uk/s1600-h/DSC00704.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ci4utK69f5GRJlauadbkWLmzea50Trb9KJBxsgxLfyZbiYeOGZFjdm3MsBl1rRBUXN7tilKtttbuj4xsjRAdqyosiPnCiI_5d2Li1MpIjgH_7S0RJIQglXIBHnAVVhIBOS14GssC3uk/s200/DSC00704.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056928718085347074" /></a>i had a few gin and tonics, chatted with gwyn, bought a few cds, and got a cab back to the jianjuo garden hotel around one am. the next day i was back with the group for a full day of hop on hop off tourism, which would cumulate in a two hour flight to xi'an. from xi'an we would fly to qingdao, where the ship traveled to while we were galavanting around china. <br /><br />the highlight of the xi'an trip was, of course, the terra cotta warriors. incredibly, i had never heard of this major historic discovery until this trip. in 1974 a farmer was digging a well and found what turned out to be one of the new seven wonders of the world - 6000 (so far) life size soldiers and horses made of terra cotta clay and arranged in military formation, were constucted in rectangular vaults, with bricks floor and timber supports. emperor qin shi huang had his army recreated in clay and buried near him to watch over his tomb. clearly a type a paranoid personality, with a little ocd thrown in, but not enough for he himself to do the work. nonetheless, it was good planning on his part, because a year after his army for the afterlife was done, emperor qin died.<br /><br />as remarkable as the army is, the hangar the chinese have built over the excavation site is almost equally so. from above tourists can view what was never intended to be seen, what has been uncovered of the army at the archaelogical site, which is comparable, in size, to a football field.<br /><br />while china has opened up economically, it remains closed politically. in a "frontline" episode, beijing university students were shown a photo of the tank man incident in tiananamen square and asked if they were familiar with it. none were. they repeatedly asked for context. one asked "is it art?" the one time, shortly after the 1989 event, china showed the tankman showdown, it was presented as an example of army restraint and never shown again.<br /><br />an interport lecturer and student board the ship in the port prior to the ship's arrival in their country. tung, (hong kong university), the interport student who sailed with us from saigon to hong kong, attended the post-vietnam students of color meeting, where the discussion included criticism of the u.s. educational system with regard to coverage of the vietnam war; the antiwar movement, then and now; the paralles between the vietnam and iraq war; and everyone's favorite, u.s foreign policy, and what right we have to tell other countries what political and economic policies to adopt.<br /><br />tung was stunned by our openness and expressed how seeing chinese people fight one another, in the "frontline" tankman episode, showed in global studies, made him tear up. i don't know if it was the first time he had seen the tankman footage. he's of the generation that is likely not to have.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxU0Gz5ua5ZcSSzmxpDgb7VaB9Lt-yiur422UMngs3AgMAdt9QjFRKOv-fL6L0R49X9TH1ly4mYzciCF8aRgVF0TaJLlUFDAHk4ATuItLZNUa7OFfIZr6BKOzdijrT_meUL8KveAiQ-w/s1600-h/DSC00727.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxU0Gz5ua5ZcSSzmxpDgb7VaB9Lt-yiur422UMngs3AgMAdt9QjFRKOv-fL6L0R49X9TH1ly4mYzciCF8aRgVF0TaJLlUFDAHk4ATuItLZNUa7OFfIZr6BKOzdijrT_meUL8KveAiQ-w/s200/DSC00727.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056949252323989330" /></a>on a lighter note, one unforgettable aspect of china is me being man-handled by the chinese for photo opts. either, i'm the only black person many had seen, or i'm the most beautiful person they've ever seen, or they thought i was whoopi goldberg. which, i'll never know, because i speak no mandarin. although i couldn't understand a thing they said, i did get that they were quite amused. the funny part was that some of the people laughing, snaring and snapping photos had the worst perms i've ever seen in my life. they had not only permed their hair, but teased it too. the first time it occurred, i was on top of the great wall of china. a woman grabbed my arm, positioned me next to her, and pointed to her husband to snap the picture. at first i thought she was asking me to take a picture of her, but a split second later, it was clear her intentions were otherwise. <br /><br />the following day at the forbidden city, the same thing happened repeatedly. even my s@s group was getting tired of it. some even joined the fun and took pictures of me with themselves. since i couldn't take a picture with myself, i had my picture taken with some of my new chinese friends. if you can't beat them join em.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-10146203352715008682007-04-24T01:27:00.000-07:002007-08-19T12:21:50.287-07:00hong kongthe ship docked in hong kong the morning of april 17. this was the first port i didn't get up early to watch our arrival. my group, "hong kong 02", going to beijing, would be the first group off the ship so we had to be packed and ready to go at 8:45, after the diplomatic briefing, which ended up being canceled. it didn't seem important enough, or right to follow our memorial service for the virginia tech students, with a diplomatic briefing. <br /><br />beforehand, i did however make it to the dining hall for breakfast. when i walked out onto the deck of the sixth floor aft dining hall, the hong kong skyline commanded my attention. whoa, it was close and massive. i've lived in san francisco and new york. they don't even compare. other than the view from the ship, all i would see of hong kong would be from a bus on the way to the airport. i don't know much about architecture or design, but i do know that the office buildings, highrise apartment buildings, and bridges that i saw weren't done by ordinary architects - they were design masterpieces - mouth agape, i was in awe - very cool.<br /><br />hong kong is considered the commercial and economic center of china, beijing the political and cultural center, and xi'an the historical center.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-77357729060261962932007-04-13T01:18:00.000-07:002007-08-19T12:15:55.211-07:00tourism and life on the mekong delta<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ8D835Rg7brxKxlA17EbzfhakYwpptJOhhgeF20fGqEDgcPeSE2tvu558FPC59r2tBrC9xw-6zwrjmcotqSyEwe13ks9Ik_O1bixmC0ZGz15sU2NaHzCqGiZ-HEECUhCy_NBGl2ZgjCc/s1600-h/DSC00594.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ8D835Rg7brxKxlA17EbzfhakYwpptJOhhgeF20fGqEDgcPeSE2tvu558FPC59r2tBrC9xw-6zwrjmcotqSyEwe13ks9Ik_O1bixmC0ZGz15sU2NaHzCqGiZ-HEECUhCy_NBGl2ZgjCc/s200/DSC00594.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052826695057190834" /></a>my second day in vietnam i went on an s@s overnight trip to the mekong delta. like i suspected my water craft experience would continue. in addition to riding around on riverboats (ones with less amenities than the ones in brazil), we had to take a ferry to get to cantho, where we would stay overnight.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltm2d63d-KcoWs2w7iXmQX8As7VkMsYjvtk8ErV1_sRhlMTvNHrSPTtZZFcZSipysIKXtqop4huUIPpNVMBFoZKsyVjurE0HKCQn6-GRX7rPKd8XlQ10ufbSwOg32Njl3alzBLh-bGHI/s1600-h/DSC00573.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltm2d63d-KcoWs2w7iXmQX8As7VkMsYjvtk8ErV1_sRhlMTvNHrSPTtZZFcZSipysIKXtqop4huUIPpNVMBFoZKsyVjurE0HKCQn6-GRX7rPKd8XlQ10ufbSwOg32Njl3alzBLh-bGHI/s200/DSC00573.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052826098056736674" /></a>on the boat we cruised the southern ah binh area and visited a snack food production business, where they made toffee like candy and sweet rice cake snacks (left and below). we saw how they were made by hand. of course they gave us free samples, and provided plenty of time for us to buy as much as we wanted. ill try not and eat all of what i bought so that some of you can try some too. however it's possible trader joes or cost plus sells them too. then there's the tenderloin and chinatown. i'm not trying to diminish my international experiences or their work, but packing and lugging stuff around the world is an unfortunate part of the travel experience.<br /><br />sweet tangy rice cakes near the end of the packaging process:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNzrpWZ2cWjII7u2paWlCtbSarwTo7gaysLeSyu-4lNK35p-zhEy4rmF3nkxl_yIwMbgZTgwicKfZ4d2goEN6dKYWdQwSePRipGSVv-jQhBW8WJcYwWqqVoTRA13oYk2z4kW2pehHdII/s1600-h/DSC00575+(2).JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNzrpWZ2cWjII7u2paWlCtbSarwTo7gaysLeSyu-4lNK35p-zhEy4rmF3nkxl_yIwMbgZTgwicKfZ4d2goEN6dKYWdQwSePRipGSVv-jQhBW8WJcYwWqqVoTRA13oYk2z4kW2pehHdII/s200/DSC00575+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052832390183825378" /></a><br /><br />candy making by hand:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7eDwhcASrNpe2PC8DMTEK6ETstfnQxkF0XRDMJfw3-bj-j4mr62_1_eVujC316ZLWIJHZIGii4Wb3RssSQ6mpMfsywcl6gefuW2PhobFwU0p5twSyjP6tYXioy1OcdXXfEt5YoGBWxk/s1600-h/DSC00578+(2).JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7eDwhcASrNpe2PC8DMTEK6ETstfnQxkF0XRDMJfw3-bj-j4mr62_1_eVujC316ZLWIJHZIGii4Wb3RssSQ6mpMfsywcl6gefuW2PhobFwU0p5twSyjP6tYXioy1OcdXXfEt5YoGBWxk/s200/DSC00578+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052831823248142290" /></a><br /><br />i can only imagine what these people feel like with boat loads of tourists passing through snapping photos of them all day. we also rode through the residential areas of the river where many of the people who work on the floating markets live and grow their produce (since the 1986 reforms that permitted foreign investment, farmers have been allowed to own their own land). the homes range from meager to what would probably qualify as a mcmansion in these parts.<br /><br />the nice thing about vietnam, not only are the people so friendly, but there seems to be plenty of food for the citizenry and export. phuc, our guide for this tour, said that the vietnamese people hold no animosity against their aggressors, because throughout history they've been invaded so many times they now see defending themselves as a fact of life - some countries have earthquakes, floods, or tsunamis, vietnam has invaders. <br /><br />day one we visited a fairly small floating market in the an binh region. the farmers, and others, pay a tiny mooring fee to sell on the river. they live on their boats while they're selling. one piece of tall bamboo towers above most boats. whatever is sold on the boat is tied to the bamboo pole so buyers can see what they're selling from a distance. the homes and businesses that line the river don't look very substantive, but all in the area have cable satellite antennas on their roofs.<br /><br />antenna skyline:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONhRM8H_XFmILDfCpAOSZ7PaFa0DIoe7HD0XS9VBCFJEMWkdR6X78mAK0hGPFtVJDiaWtpT5caLV1Kf9RMuiG9JD4-TpIWq2DaDzNYMMdxlo9aQl0tQHZVgmDtwK1K2njkvdh13QLvOg/s1600-h/DSC00587.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONhRM8H_XFmILDfCpAOSZ7PaFa0DIoe7HD0XS9VBCFJEMWkdR6X78mAK0hGPFtVJDiaWtpT5caLV1Kf9RMuiG9JD4-TpIWq2DaDzNYMMdxlo9aQl0tQHZVgmDtwK1K2njkvdh13QLvOg/s200/DSC00587.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052836174050013170" /></a><br /><br />after spending hours on the river we ferried and bused to our hotel, the saigon cantho hotel in cantho, had a great meal that evening, and i enjoyed a five dollar massage at the hotel by a young woman name phoung, the same as the female protagonist in <span style="font-style:italic;">the quiet american</span>, another piece of classic literature about men behaving badly. that evening we also heard some type of public broadcast over a public address system. the next day we asked phuc, our guide, about it. he said it was "propaganda". it airs certain mornings and evenings. social, economic and political messages are piped into communities over speaker systems installed on street corners, i guess its better than cameras. it's sort of a combination of the old advice manuals and the modern evening news, except that you can't can choose to purchase it or turn it on.<br /><br />saigon cantho hotel:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOvZxcz0o8SiWt41k7iBduPalMOO6L8b8yZkmBorc6pGnQ9fx5LswS87gZwiV68kSKehRxUtE2fNkusPVlbykxu2JiDUbz50kH4oYkHscbYwhZfY3N7Jrd3UR8AI_WuX5bBN3iChlS7w/s1600-h/DSC00620.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOvZxcz0o8SiWt41k7iBduPalMOO6L8b8yZkmBorc6pGnQ9fx5LswS87gZwiV68kSKehRxUtE2fNkusPVlbykxu2JiDUbz50kH4oYkHscbYwhZfY3N7Jrd3UR8AI_WuX5bBN3iChlS7w/s200/DSC00620.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052840159779663890" /></a><br /><br />larger market, where several rivers meet:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpuN-ZhLZuTRePwrasFnGgTw0hY7JoEl81Q7q_qJdgDPLZ0Hu5BUmjM_E7XPIlLD5z122TDeCl8j0W_iyVbno0SwkZ1xY7CYxkurBuUe9dnLPkYHnHl0NEF4wqD6q7xJLCJEiiqM4Uts/s1600-h/DSC00638.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpuN-ZhLZuTRePwrasFnGgTw0hY7JoEl81Q7q_qJdgDPLZ0Hu5BUmjM_E7XPIlLD5z122TDeCl8j0W_iyVbno0SwkZ1xY7CYxkurBuUe9dnLPkYHnHl0NEF4wqD6q7xJLCJEiiqM4Uts/s200/DSC00638.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052838390253137922" /></a><br /><br />robin enjoying fresh pineapple bought, skinned and carved on the river; sweet doesn't begin to describe it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik39smQ3rUy2ng61Axp8zMuVPO0mFuPg7AGJzCuIYcH3G6kLW71hBs3g1i7TNXTasvWw9Dmo8S0hhoWYIWsmGkxCFxtNFIpNhiBjisbltexx5X-K9YnLOM49oix2yx_2Re-B9Q3taKfv4/s1600-h/DSC00641.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik39smQ3rUy2ng61Axp8zMuVPO0mFuPg7AGJzCuIYcH3G6kLW71hBs3g1i7TNXTasvWw9Dmo8S0hhoWYIWsmGkxCFxtNFIpNhiBjisbltexx5X-K9YnLOM49oix2yx_2Re-B9Q3taKfv4/s200/DSC00641.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052841104672469026" /></a><br /><br />got cabbage?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUzcpFl_5vyPrl_a30-wlW0NQSsEBiYE_VzLuBKGUdYVzPtj0LHf7iRH1zYG_ldJhQCDH_VFXN_UYU0SW2_Cj5CILSjZo82D5b3xRn8tQ-i5IsjIte_Hnx5LiEl0RXMy-g8zLHqpRp4IM/s1600-h/DSC00636.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUzcpFl_5vyPrl_a30-wlW0NQSsEBiYE_VzLuBKGUdYVzPtj0LHf7iRH1zYG_ldJhQCDH_VFXN_UYU0SW2_Cj5CILSjZo82D5b3xRn8tQ-i5IsjIte_Hnx5LiEl0RXMy-g8zLHqpRp4IM/s200/DSC00636.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052842066745143346" /></a><br /><br />boatmaking along the river:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0kCknNy9KTpd06Jhk4SEC9QS2AFlL_-S6-ZTI5Ed3R22gBHRxjKK-lyG5LIG0AEgoy-3n0yqZPE80PrCPUjbMobfIe_9K4fxc_NfQKm8XOGg3GZAzYiOTvbRvj3SaLXn3BGthY1seU7w/s1600-h/DSC00645+(2).JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0kCknNy9KTpd06Jhk4SEC9QS2AFlL_-S6-ZTI5Ed3R22gBHRxjKK-lyG5LIG0AEgoy-3n0yqZPE80PrCPUjbMobfIe_9K4fxc_NfQKm8XOGg3GZAzYiOTvbRvj3SaLXn3BGthY1seU7w/s200/DSC00645+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052852323127046258" /></a><br /><br />got lycee juice, pineapple juice, coke, 7up, aquafina? by the time she finished with us, she could have taken the rest of the day off.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCSXew3xaX_-cfPhXnGbRij0mG9Gn62wpCLQZO8hElrHu49uGW9UyiphTnsGpnCQIQUcXK-6Udp9mxUtrS78jleQy6QLYAoQSj94QJlnzyhSTu45NvNgbbnJ1w-7zwGdnML1-8kUqgP40/s1600-h/DSC00631.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCSXew3xaX_-cfPhXnGbRij0mG9Gn62wpCLQZO8hElrHu49uGW9UyiphTnsGpnCQIQUcXK-6Udp9mxUtrS78jleQy6QLYAoQSj94QJlnzyhSTu45NvNgbbnJ1w-7zwGdnML1-8kUqgP40/s200/DSC00631.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052843226386313298" /></a><br /><br />still life on the river:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPACiTiPTAsQNzzWHKTvuXlK5w345L0kfkEBTZj90PY9D678Q1iTiB6C1KwxrfbiqFK75e9xn_1JtKxU-cz93qFPeETc5WrTMd0YjEwvTu1JN5SvEOmuMCCFdQQvPDxrFjhZ7_updoBzg/s1600-h/DSC00633.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPACiTiPTAsQNzzWHKTvuXlK5w345L0kfkEBTZj90PY9D678Q1iTiB6C1KwxrfbiqFK75e9xn_1JtKxU-cz93qFPeETc5WrTMd0YjEwvTu1JN5SvEOmuMCCFdQQvPDxrFjhZ7_updoBzg/s200/DSC00633.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052843733192454242" /></a><br /><br />there is so much more i want to see in vietnam - in saigon, in the north (hanoi and cambodia), and the middle (hue). it's a very comforting and welcoming place.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-84670364306253550972007-04-12T21:19:00.000-07:002007-08-19T12:07:03.033-07:00when i left the cafe terrace last night, like when i leave anywhere here, there were motorbikers, ready to wisk me off wherever i wanted to go. "madam, madam", they call. "motobike, motobike?" getting to less visited tourist attractions like the botanic garden and the fine arts museum requires much more consultation and pantomiming to overcome the language barrier. the "war museum" is the museum franca. so when the drivers hear museum they automatically take you to that museum, despite the fact there's others. luckily, i had already been there so when we arrived i knew we had a communication problem.<br /><br />the only place they know better than the war museum is the ship. so when the driver at the cafe terrace asked "motobike". i said, "you know ship"? "of course, yes madam," and i was flying through the streets of saigon again.<br /><br />my battery died before i could post what i was working on at the cafe. i was back on the ship so quickly though, i was able to plug in my computer and recover what i thought was lost.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ16dSjE-25prmDEpxvAOrbftfVCe7oFkacK92LIElOAbbDU6LnlXrDPtLeKwMPiqn-ZsA-Azjl9DMhwbEsf4M-vMFyqa19zfw0tgK4kJPGisVGhfAFP-ahEVG8Kh8Qw4LH1UcKwHQsRk/s1600-h/DSC00652.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ16dSjE-25prmDEpxvAOrbftfVCe7oFkacK92LIElOAbbDU6LnlXrDPtLeKwMPiqn-ZsA-Azjl9DMhwbEsf4M-vMFyqa19zfw0tgK4kJPGisVGhfAFP-ahEVG8Kh8Qw4LH1UcKwHQsRk/s200/DSC00652.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052767476048113554" /></a>other saigon excursions included, the zoo, which is in the botanic garden, and the water puppet show at the history museum (see photo). i need to find out how they do this without drowning. i'm pretty sure it's partly mechanical.<br /><br />i got my heat relief that day at an air conditioned war propaganda posters store. i bought several. it took me forever to decide which - some were good for the message, others for the design, and others for the historical aspect.<br /><br />today, i'm not going to even bother with the heat. i slept in (missed breakfast), read an international herald tribune, and a usa today, and am posting this blog entry. i'll do an early lunch (served 11:30-1:30) on ship, read, shower and pull my self together before heading out around sundown for one more saigon excursion - the post office, which is open until 10pm, like most other stores, and back to the cafe terrace for their hi-speed internet connection and my last decent meal until hong kong.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-11530464316056784812007-04-12T06:50:00.000-07:002007-08-19T12:03:23.918-07:00singapore slinging in saigon<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9E_BWKMJVl0iL-3x2xKTt5WQSjCISP_Qv48WadPdjF9LaeY0QdJlnb7Zkx0_aY805s8ntrV-3_erljQ9y7WOoEI7ma-A0T9rAG30bnjPHNCni8Bha77mmMhWZtp4jvCwr5zF1hLUVa7o/s1600-h/DSC00546.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9E_BWKMJVl0iL-3x2xKTt5WQSjCISP_Qv48WadPdjF9LaeY0QdJlnb7Zkx0_aY805s8ntrV-3_erljQ9y7WOoEI7ma-A0T9rAG30bnjPHNCni8Bha77mmMhWZtp4jvCwr5zF1hLUVa7o/s200/DSC00546.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052556142182313858" /></a>the voyage is winding down. we're at that stage where we start looking back and thinking about the highs and lows. vietnam is definitely a high. and, not just because i'm sitting in the cafe terrace (just a one dollar motorbike away from the ship), drinking a singapore sling (preceded by a cheeseburger, fries and cappuccino cake), and enjoying their hi-speed internet connection. well, that has a little to do with it. but, day one i was captivated by saigon (apparently only the government calls it ho chi minh city).<br /><br />my first day here i did a s@s trip, where we visited a vietnamese man (name in my notes, not with me) who was an upi (united press international) photographer during the "american war", and the war remnants museum, formerly know as the museum of french and american war crimes. what made the photographer visit interesting was that the photographer and our tour guide, (from a younger generation) had two very different perspectives about the the government. the guide, phoung, translated the photographer's answers to our questions, but later made a point of saying that he was strictly translating not interpreting, and everything the photographer said about the government, civil rights (like free press) issues and what it's done, or hasn't, for the people, were lies. according to the tour guide, "he's just bitter". since according to phoung, the photographer is much better off, financially, than he portrayed himself to be, he must only be bitter for being unjustly imprisoned. similarly, our tour guide on the mekong delta overnight trip, discussed how him and his father viewed the government differently. the father doesn't trust the government, but the son believes that the government has done much for the people. <br /><br />only 2% of vietnam's 84 million people are actually communist party members. however, i'm sure marx is rolling over in his grave at the thought that they call themselves communists. the country has been open to foreign investment since 1986. health care and education, even grade school, is no longer free, which of course isn't a problem for the folks hanging out here at the cafe terrace, but for the families selling produce in the floating markets on the mekong delta, and other rural areas, it probably is - this is an aspect of globalization that i've seen at every port, the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer (mostly as a result of less government support - jobs, housing, education, etc.), and the gap between them getting larger.<br /><br />photographer:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhhmTJFgFGVM0WtgCceMgkzRbn1tJVE-Djss8PBObk7atBnbtyIw0EyzyHqinoM_kl6fZeSRCde8P5t0ZQQsAAwgCSV0b_8bPdO4Vt8cjJA8nx1nlTxte4IcuD4HTK_bqHgnd87MI8Kk4/s1600-h/DSC00555.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhhmTJFgFGVM0WtgCceMgkzRbn1tJVE-Djss8PBObk7atBnbtyIw0EyzyHqinoM_kl6fZeSRCde8P5t0ZQQsAAwgCSV0b_8bPdO4Vt8cjJA8nx1nlTxte4IcuD4HTK_bqHgnd87MI8Kk4/s200/DSC00555.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052555416332840818" /></a><br /><br />ok i got a little side tracked. saigon has this incredible mix of old world charm and modern sophistication. the museums are more old world - climate control isn't a priority, even in the fine art museum, but the old funky building is gorgeous, especially looking out to the inner courtyard, from the inside. the tile and iron work, not to mention the stained and other colored glass, add to the idyllic charm, definitely a holdover from the french.<br /><br />fine arts museum:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0lvqs_1vziyQWKCgrNKWPYQ4nWVUKb_nrMAFCpJPBjHkjE7tiVLHIReaEjT1rGEQkHuv3pSsakfuQ60w6YwJ2-DfXmP9GZZaiP0zTx30l7KcDrlKrB1yy7xftZxW-oHuGbEDCYsMWK8/s1600-h/DSC00656+(2).JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0lvqs_1vziyQWKCgrNKWPYQ4nWVUKb_nrMAFCpJPBjHkjE7tiVLHIReaEjT1rGEQkHuv3pSsakfuQ60w6YwJ2-DfXmP9GZZaiP0zTx30l7KcDrlKrB1yy7xftZxW-oHuGbEDCYsMWK8/s200/DSC00656+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052856476360421506" /></a><br /><br />in the tropics, one advantage to going to a museum, should be ac. not here. the modern aspects of vietnam are cool because they are uniquely asian, they don't attempt to import or imitate the west. instead of the garish high end hugo boss, gucci, and louis vutton stores i saw in kuala lumpur (these stores may be here, but they don't dominate the landscape), alongside street vendors, you have these quaint little boutiques selling nice high end asian style clothes and accessories. the key word here is little. i'd have to lose fifty pounds before even considering doing more than window shopping.<br /><br />i found my own way home from the war remnants museum, passing the palace, where the tanks crashed through the gates on april 30, 1975, the defining moment of "the fall of saigon". i also stopped at the ben thanh(?) market (major censory overload, but bought fresh ground coffee and a one cup filter to make my own coffee on the ship); and passed the legendary rex and continental hotels; and a jazz club - "sax and art". during my wanderings that first day i experienced saigon rush hour. the key word here is rush - what a rush. i thought la was the traffic capitol of the world. not. what makes saigon traffic such a rush, is that there's probably ten times more vehicles on the road than in la, mostly motorbikes, and it's not bumper to bumper, but a flood of traffic rushing around at crazy speeds. i had no idea how to capture it on film, but i found a post card by someone who did. <br /><br />i haven't taken many pictures of myself, but i would love to have one of me on the back of a motorbike, attempting to make a left hand turn in the middle of an intersection, with traffic coming directly at us with no apparent intention of stopping. there was no traffic signal in sight to know who actually had the right away (i'm sure that the concept doesn't even exist in vietnamese driving vocabulary). the oncoming traffic didn't stop they just went around us. so basically just walk or drive out into oncoming traffic and the traffic will skillfully, actually quite gracefully, maneuver around you. i wasn't quite as graceful, but i learned to be. i'm not sure what it says about me, but i'm sure one of my favorite experiences of the voyage will be crossing the street in vietnam - i eventually relished every opportunity to do so. <br /><br />my battery is low, and i'm sure it's getting late, so i should head back to the ship. tomorrow i'll try and fill out this saigon post and post something about my mekong delta trip, which will feature the floating markets. the $5 full body massage was a treat too.<br /><br />this time you can blame all the typos on the singapore slings.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-59246969093370352932007-04-06T22:04:00.000-07:002007-08-19T11:41:24.108-07:00pirates?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkRyPw1Lpm9neduY239ficl5vQmwQz4o6xniwNisWNghwbpp45I9QWapyZHWC_Nu1xGjsJVf67fTUjk1qZxXLUMcrNiPWD84qE9CpfAF02zL5K3jxbG2ILBndiA7lc53Y7rJksDk5RJE/s1600-h/DSC00540.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkRyPw1Lpm9neduY239ficl5vQmwQz4o6xniwNisWNghwbpp45I9QWapyZHWC_Nu1xGjsJVf67fTUjk1qZxXLUMcrNiPWD84qE9CpfAF02zL5K3jxbG2ILBndiA7lc53Y7rJksDk5RJE/s200/DSC00540.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050552621645861026" /></a>at lunch, i discovered we were completely stopped. i asked mazraim, one of the dining hall workers, if we were stopped because there was a traffic jam ahead. boats were still about everywhere, including several tethered to us, one big one port side, three smaller ones, starboard side. of course, the students first thought them to be pirates. these areas, especially around malaysia are notorious for pirates. i heard students set up a pirate watch between india and malaysia, any excuse to sleep on deck at night. <br /><br />on the bridge tour i learned that our best and only defense against pirates (other than 702 students) was the water hose for putting out fires. students were disappointed that captain jeremy didn't carry a gun. i don't think we have to worry about pirates. however, after shopping our way around the world, we probably have as much in consumer goods as the container ships.<br /><br />turns out, the boats tethered to us are fuel boats. they hang out refueling vessels on the fly. mazraim said, if he could be on one of those boats, he definitely wouldn't be on ours. apparently, it's a very lucrative operation.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-49289278195672868592007-04-06T17:47:00.000-07:002007-08-19T11:37:21.268-07:00back to civilizationi actually made it up for breakfast this morning. the first time in a while. i ate out on the garden lounge deck, and was struck by how we were no longer the only kids on the block. ships and boats everywhere, even land. some of the container ships are so big they look like land. not surprisingly, this is quite a busy little area - the south china sea, i believe. i'll have to make a point to try and get outside during the day, more than i tend to. i'll also have to buy some new binoculars in vietnam. the first time i took them out, i broke the ones sesheta gave me for xmas. sorry shay shay.<br /><br />yesterday we did a man over board drill, or i should say captain jeremy did. the drill is basically making the necessary turn to rescue the person overboard. it's happened twice on s@s voyages - once a drunk girl was seating on the rail and fell over. another time a boy decided to traverse down the side of the ship to touch the water. apparently the current is a lot stronger than it looks from above. they were able to rescue him, but he was expelled from the program. i think i mentioned recently how resourceful these students are. this particular one, although expelled from the program, met the ship at each port thereafter. listening to and watching some of these students, some parents probably gladly paid the $17,000 tuition and expenses to get them out of their hair. some families sent multiple kids. one set of twins are my favorite. i'd pay $40,000+ grand to have them out of my hair. just kidding, they're quite fun. <br /><br />since the beginning of the voyage we've also had a couple of lifeboat drills. we don't actually get on the boats, we just put on cool weather clothes and life vests, and go to our muster areas, where we are suppose to gather and be accounted for. we (except the videographer and photographer) can't take pictures during the drills, but i look quite fashionable in my vest. one student had his cool weather clothes on and snorkeling gear. one of the questions on the bridge tour, was "are there enough lifeboats for everyone". these kids, you gotta love em.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-73836236273799834962007-04-05T20:26:00.000-07:002007-08-19T11:32:26.082-07:00from traveler to tourist<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1K_7uitHEf8CuOEYipbYYAQSjX6xOuVFAk6o1HwKLd_JCPs1mj8k0m51fRHmAwOSX3mwhVx7b5NHdInXbhfR1JNnoIG7bw011_1erOJNg_vHhDl-2avx7zRtEIZ4nH1Lf9zueviaoDg/s1600-h/DSC00521.JPG"><img older style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1K_7uitHEf8CuOEYipbYYAQSjX6xOuVFAk6o1HwKLd_JCPs1mj8k0m51fRHmAwOSX3mwhVx7b5NHdInXbhfR1JNnoIG7bw011_1erOJNg_vHhDl-2avx7zRtEIZ4nH1Lf9zueviaoDg/s200/DSC00521.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050160383757553714" /></a> (an alley in penang). shayla, my next door neighbor, and assistant to the dean, asked me today where we were last. earlier, i had wondered the same. clearly we’re wearing down. all the ports are starting to blur together. while in malaysia, i spent a day in penang and two nights and one full day in kuala lumpur. the difference from india was huge. well, that’s a useless statement. most places are different from india. aspects of malaysia are very modern and very western – the roads (better than ours), the stores (all the food chains everywhere; many of the same non-food products), the language (most speak english, although it’s not an official language); and their own little silicone valley. they differ from the u.s. most in that they have a thriving manufacturing economy – palm oil, rubber, electronics, and only 3% unemployment.<br /><br />for the first time in my life, i participated in a bus tour – you know one of those hop on, hop off sightseeing tours. both were semester at sea field trips, one a “city orientation” in penang the day we arrived, and the other a kuala lumpur (kl) trip. after fumbling around cities on my own, albeit happily, i thought i was ready to just get on a bus and be escorted around. not. these buses are what distinguish the travelers from the tourists. mostly, i saw a lot of chinese tourists, and school children on field trips. in addition to limiting opportunities to truly discover stuff and meet local people, the experience is mind numbing. the only perk is air conditioning, but i still prefer the natural ac of indian rickshaw rides.<br /><br />to make matters worse, i didn’t realize until hours before docking in penang that i was assigned to be the trip leader for the kl trip. this meant i had to keep track of and supervise large numbers of students, students who would be spending two nights in a kl hotel room. college students and hotel rooms aren’t a good mix, especially in a country where some drug offences carry the death penalty. ok, no i didn’t expect this type of problem, but a call from the front desk in the middle of the night wasn’t out of the question. didn't happen either, but our tour guide did say that students were dancing and singing in the hotel lobby in the middle of the night. i got out of being trip leader, by agreeing to be a bus leader, thinking it might be less responsibility. not. when there are three buses of kids, 120 total, at two different hotels, a group at your hotel and another at the official trip leader's hotel, essentially there is no difference between a trip and bus leader? the biggest drawback to either position, is that you can’t opt out of any of the itinerary, unlike the students. they’re not totally foolish, except for the fact they spend all their time shopping for clothes and accessories that they can get at home from the same retailers. the exchange rate is only $3.44 rm to a dollar, so it’s not like they’re saving that much money, especially when many will be shipping purchases back home from honolulu or san diego. however, for many disposable income is their middle name. <br /><br />many not only opted out of parts of the itinerary, but some flew back to penang or other points, instead of coming back to the ship with the group on the bus. they are resourceful, i’ll give them that. whatever they want, they tend to find it and get it.<br /><br />well after hopping on and off a bus for three days, i was ready for a day in kl to myself, which of course wasn’t part of the itinerary. 20-45 minutes at museums, pagodas, temples, monuments, palaces, gardens and some drive by architectural viewings was most of what i did in malaysia. oh and of course, reminding students not to talk over the tour guide, to be on time, and keeping track of who had decided to leave the group and do their own thing. i was envious. oh, and i use to like chinese food. i know billions of chinese eat it everyday, but i need some variety, especially in kl, where i saw every type of ethnic restaurant imaginable. i suppose only the chinese, known for their huge banquets, can easily accommodate 120 guests at once. <br /><br />the one evening we did have to ourselves, we had a great dinner at a malay restaurant one of the hotel workers recommended (he even called the restaurant to make sure we arrived safely). my stuffed squid in a ginger-tumeric sauce, with a fragrant rice, with fruit relishes was perfect. the atmosphere and decor was minimalist chic with a young multiethnic crowd - people from different ethnic groups were seated at each table, and many tables were mixed - very cosmopolitan. the restaurant was in a neighborhood where there were all sorts of bars, restaurants, and cafes that catered to young, hip, locals, rather than the bars and restaurants that cater to young tourists, like our students, who want to get drunk and dance to deafening music in an environment, where the ability to communicate isn't a priority.<br /><br />when i turned in my bus leader folder (paperwork - how many kids you left and returned with, evaluations, etc.) and first aid kit (another drawback to being bus/trip leader is having to carry around a fanny pack full of drugs and other first aid materials. during one of the numerous orientations at the beginning of the voyage, dr. matt passed on some professional inside information for emergency situations – “bleeding eventually stops.” great stuff huh?), i left a note for the field program office to not assign me to be trip/bus leader for my next tour which will be 5 day trip in china, and require flights from hong kong to beijing, beijing to xi’an, and xi’an to quindao. <br /><br />with all the bus riding, i did get a lot of reading done, most of <span style="font-style:italic;">foreign babes in beijing, behind the scenes of a new china</span>, which is fun and culturally informative, but not what i'd call great writing.<br /><br />in kl i bought a device to easily upload my pictures with. other great finds in kl were ricola cough drops, to comfort me from an allergy cough that has been an ongoing problem; hagen daaz; and dare i say it, starbucks coffee, my first decent, non-expresso cup of coffee since cape town. <br /><br />penang architecture:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOwBSglFgW93mE_DCsTrc88NnfyqQObfjK3yJM358Bs60WxaW4-eGHao9t3JLwg15umzdlraG6nD3iNecmR25sNUJLQJY1bUT_Px0vRRBf-xkHnyL2ubtdkQSFX16y7iCklXQMX03Kqbk/s1600-h/DSC00519.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOwBSglFgW93mE_DCsTrc88NnfyqQObfjK3yJM358Bs60WxaW4-eGHao9t3JLwg15umzdlraG6nD3iNecmR25sNUJLQJY1bUT_Px0vRRBf-xkHnyL2ubtdkQSFX16y7iCklXQMX03Kqbk/s200/DSC00519.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050166658704773218" /></a><br /><br />registrar, dia draper, at the butterfly farm in penang:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQZxCXsJvSaQUK6ddEP4lT3X_veQfhEV6Xyc2gmGK5AyUr-yqCgVcHIn13Nm7GR5WyD8WHGxQd6Cgp40hUSlmfKX0AwM1DHrxwlYckJIA93IuE1ibUClCDxhJQWtmPYaC45xDEEc7DgE/s1600-h/DSC00503.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUQZxCXsJvSaQUK6ddEP4lT3X_veQfhEV6Xyc2gmGK5AyUr-yqCgVcHIn13Nm7GR5WyD8WHGxQd6Cgp40hUSlmfKX0AwM1DHrxwlYckJIA93IuE1ibUClCDxhJQWtmPYaC45xDEEc7DgE/s200/DSC00503.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050162565600940098" /></a><br /><br />butterflies eating pineapple:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFH2Y2NGCFUX6YdPOYAMwUovcV9-M61Yeprp3PL6tcqEvRzCgVEZxf-qvNFyghH9z1j9DBZg-Sv77v5wAwgDdGzcs2u9xyMuUPHQhHQI_VRKhsZSnNf9fxOeqozEAhHfcf_aJQIa9HDNI/s1600-h/DSC00499.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFH2Y2NGCFUX6YdPOYAMwUovcV9-M61Yeprp3PL6tcqEvRzCgVEZxf-qvNFyghH9z1j9DBZg-Sv77v5wAwgDdGzcs2u9xyMuUPHQhHQI_VRKhsZSnNf9fxOeqozEAhHfcf_aJQIa9HDNI/s200/DSC00499.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050165164056154194" /></a><br /><br />students at a kl war memorial:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzeFITbP2OA2feVoLayYvRqrxX6_zkP1td4ScM5TL3iJZVuECcDL2LlKkr8a34CpmC0yUg00igOsezKbrcRyu3WGGP7EiCRtXuUVHaNp8CEtGMebK7WWlyhKTdxrL-6pFN-3Il58lCN0/s1600-h/DSC00533.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzeFITbP2OA2feVoLayYvRqrxX6_zkP1td4ScM5TL3iJZVuECcDL2LlKkr8a34CpmC0yUg00igOsezKbrcRyu3WGGP7EiCRtXuUVHaNp8CEtGMebK7WWlyhKTdxrL-6pFN-3Il58lCN0/s200/DSC00533.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050168840548159602" /></a><br /><br />kl twin towers from the viewing deck of the 4th largest telecommunications tower in the world:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPKzp5DVY0Ep5HLZ9GyagJ8OLzv4wgaRPK8am5qyF8YL7Yd3DNoEnLGe_kJZv8kRGfjUye8hVLBKK8-fllrlL_1B4nmwxnlQq5f9O-skNkE9zRQFm_n0uzyiAOfUU5Bq682qRYcWJ54c/s1600-h/DSC00534.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPKzp5DVY0Ep5HLZ9GyagJ8OLzv4wgaRPK8am5qyF8YL7Yd3DNoEnLGe_kJZv8kRGfjUye8hVLBKK8-fllrlL_1B4nmwxnlQq5f9O-skNkE9zRQFm_n0uzyiAOfUU5Bq682qRYcWJ54c/s200/DSC00534.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050171258614747266" /></a><br /><br />worker on palace lawn in kl:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYLvmMf6C2hyphenhyphensLWSAFGoVWpV05S0iHiaVk75YEPJ8ZaQAFQBcgmdyVIN5vtwK0d9EhTysG_Rv-g1Mr_C8_FuCVug9ROGJyqWLI1px7-kLZmDU4l6-BpkjuV7D1JfiCSw7SmjX14hxO-ic/s1600-h/DSC00532.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYLvmMf6C2hyphenhyphensLWSAFGoVWpV05S0iHiaVk75YEPJ8ZaQAFQBcgmdyVIN5vtwK0d9EhTysG_Rv-g1Mr_C8_FuCVug9ROGJyqWLI1px7-kLZmDU4l6-BpkjuV7D1JfiCSw7SmjX14hxO-ic/s200/DSC00532.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050172963716763794" /></a><br /><br />next stop vietnam.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-48307599584131842662007-04-05T04:36:00.000-07:002007-08-19T11:21:30.596-07:00"all they understand is money"since leaving india i've had all sorts of problems trying to complete my india posting. much of what follows was composed in the three days between india and malaysia (we’re leaving malaysia in 5 hours). thus, the narrative will be a bit fragmented. in part because of the technical problems, and in part because india is intense and there’s a lot to process. even those students whose main goal at every port is to drink themselves into oblivion had to find something else to do and think about in india. if they stayed in and around chennai, a bar, hotel or anything remotely touristy or western was not available. instead, heat and humidity, beggers and hawkers, trash and soot had to be dealt with before one could enjoy the people, food, spirituality, land, and culture, in general. some were better at it than others.<br /><br />"all they understand is money" are the words of the child of an indian sex worker in calcutta's red light district. one of the great things about shipboard life is that films loop between 8pm and 8am everyday on the closed circuit tv channels that are piped into our cabins. it's like a floating international film festival. the stations and films shown are categorized as edu-tainment, entertainment, and family. there's a lot of crossover between edu-tainment and entertainment. in addition to documentaries, pbs series, and international (from or about the countries we visit) and or indie films may show on the edu-tainment, whereas most of the entertainment are mainstream feature films (i.e., memoirs of a geisha, the perfect storm, the committments, bend it like beckham). i've watched many films that i've missed in the theater, including "born into brothels", which i couldn't bring myself to see, for all the obvious reasons. "all they understand is money" comes from "born into brothels", which i thought was about children sex workers, but is not. it's still not uplifiting, by any means, but i was very impressed at how the children theorized their lives. of course, the depressing part is that these precocious and talented children are also so very deprived.<br /><br />students of color, myself and other faculty and staff allies meet after each port for dinner and to debrief about our experiences in port. the india debriefing started off with many humorous stories about rickshaw ride/driver experiences. haggling the cost of a rickshaw ride and one's destination (you wouldn't think this would be negotiable) is part sport and part public theater in india. the drama is fun early in the day, in route to one's destination, but at the end of an exhausting day you just want to get back to where youre going, not their cousin’s, or anyone else's, craft shop. <br /><br />towards the end of the meeting the students had me in tears as they eloquently articulated how india impacted them in ways they never experienced before - how it felt to not be recognized as american or have that questioned; and how it felt to have one's normal insecurities disppear - in india, surrounded by so many who have so little, insecurities seemed irrelevant. many of the students of color not only have to deal with their identities in port, but on the ship as well. how they relate to the white community, some of who they can identify with and some which they can't. they also struggle with their place with other students of color who they may or may not relate to as well - the age old questions of who am i and how do i bridge these multiple identities. it made me recall similar struggles of my own at that age. as i sought answers from my own past, i realized it's not that i resolved them, at some point i just became comfortable with them and the contradictions.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ONxBHy4Bt_24ubCAedkVCpDtgMBjKF3Gs-mER53QkGWEu4d7tPmtaFXFKkmOKVmXpMVfWP4NaYIsuapnjCPbsfh-MeI0WeWexrdC6T5w4UJFC-BQjLK7YS5mV7kQhoP3FvC4d9JElQs/s1600-h/india+058.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ONxBHy4Bt_24ubCAedkVCpDtgMBjKF3Gs-mER53QkGWEu4d7tPmtaFXFKkmOKVmXpMVfWP4NaYIsuapnjCPbsfh-MeI0WeWexrdC6T5w4UJFC-BQjLK7YS5mV7kQhoP3FvC4d9JElQs/s200/india+058.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048841707674026002" /></a>i'm really glad i decided to be a trip leader for the nargercoil trip. myself and the four students had a great time with our host family, eating like indian royalty, and visiting various industries and cultural sites in the area. the afternoon we arrived in chennai we took a motorcoach the short distance to the train station where we met prof. prem kala (teaches english at the local university, and a native of nargercoil) and her niece mahisa (a japanese translator; pictured w/students), who was coming along for the fun of it. prem kala was our local guide who would accompany us on our homestay and village-farm-plantation visits. we traveled to nargercoil on an overnight sleeper train. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijSVILHhTiqR9UB4eidzFNm2mcRcQtUrjXIEAiqFiRpepfv2hBn9mur8I4FFX6aZtVvNyShuQGpycCTvMktNENnVf6kq8OApdJWSNSR18fmkRWyZm_YP8DNnGfna2GAmgpBpk9l36VAo4/s1600-h/india+057.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijSVILHhTiqR9UB4eidzFNm2mcRcQtUrjXIEAiqFiRpepfv2hBn9mur8I4FFX6aZtVvNyShuQGpycCTvMktNENnVf6kq8OApdJWSNSR18fmkRWyZm_YP8DNnGfna2GAmgpBpk9l36VAo4/s200/india+057.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048843910992248866" /></a>the train left chennai at 5:30 pm and arrived in nargercoil at 6:05 am. the train was comfortable enough but i didn't sleep much because i was excited about the trip and was in a compartment with three strangers who came and went at different times during the night. also, at certain stops the attendant would knock on the door when trying to find the appropriate compartment for a passenger. on the way back i had a compartment to myself. i slept through the night. in part, because i was exhausted from trying to keep up with these young students who seem to be able to go 24/7 and need to experience everything. funny how they can go all day and night and anxiously agree to get up at 6am for more sightseeing, but can't get to global studies class at 9:20am in the morning.<br /><br />our host family, the kumaraswami's, had a teenage son at home and a son at the university in chennai. they've traveled all over the world. their first stay in the u.s. was in santa barbara - small world, no? latha, mrs. kumaraswani, met us at the train station in the air-conditioned coach that would carry us everywhere the three days we were there. after arriving at her home we cleaned up and had breakfast, the first of many incredible home cooked meals we'd eat with our fingers and occasionally on banana leaves. latha never gave us a chance to get hungry before we were fed again. the motorcoach we were transported in was also stocked full of snacks and beverages. i can't tell you everything we eat, because every meal was different, and unlike indian food in the u.s. we talked much about food, and any time we mentioned a certain type of food, it would be served at the next meal. while driving down the road, we passed a herd of goats. recalling the many west indian goat rotis i had in brooklyn, i asked latha if they eat goat. the next meal we had goat. after our discussion of crunchy and sweet plantains in puerto rico, fried bananas were served at our next meal. latha had quite a staff, men and women who prepared our meals, men who served us our meals, a woman who cared for her mother-in-law, and men who maintained their yard, animals, garden and greenhouse. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZpDzA_rCdkQOyZHp6vWOh1vM8HL2Z7ApbY75opsu2DphiZGVhhe0dPlExX5oUVmVeI16UnR1sE0G80_vN-xlOvaCGLp9_SkfldPmnjGbml5lliN9R7Y6yBVj8KEBf_NiPLLjn0b-XZM/s1600-h/india+002.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZpDzA_rCdkQOyZHp6vWOh1vM8HL2Z7ApbY75opsu2DphiZGVhhe0dPlExX5oUVmVeI16UnR1sE0G80_vN-xlOvaCGLp9_SkfldPmnjGbml5lliN9R7Y6yBVj8KEBf_NiPLLjn0b-XZM/s200/india+002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048849326946009154" /></a>we didn't realize exactly how wealthy the family was until we visited the rubber plantation, and thread factory. her husband was there to greet us at the rubber plantation and show us how the operation worked. it wasn't until the end of the tour that we realized that they actually owned the plantation. midway through the tour of the thread factory we asked if they owned that too. they did. we stopped asking. we each brought gifts for the family, which seemed small and trivial given their status. before we left, latha, had given us each a book and nice hand carved incense burners, as if she hadn't done enough for us already. i can't remember how many acres the rubber plantation was but it was large and picturesque. under the rubber trees were also bee hives, which produced honey for them as well.<br /><br />at their thread factory, we saw the entire production process from the raw material (cotton) to thread. the factory operates 24/7. <br /><br />we also saw how certain traditional products, coir mats (think pottery barn jute rugs and door mats) and pottery were made by hand, without any type of automation. because like products are being produced by machines at a much lower cost than the handmade ones, these industries and traditional ways of doing things are in jeopardy of being lost forever. the government is subsidizing what's left of the tradition to protect it. the kumaraswami's don't own these industries, but the easy access they have, and the respect granted them, was further evidence of their status and influence in the community. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWlmCfzw6-BjH14oaDWxeDlnoco4DBI11FdJphRFtl2PSpOglbo717faRpJtaLqyAHyZTGNxLGLItSpok4RCTQfc6SwUBhiF_DoCCO8qjSVqIps3z5h_2DrIO6TJaSbNOc6fdm54OO0rE/s1600-h/india+045.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWlmCfzw6-BjH14oaDWxeDlnoco4DBI11FdJphRFtl2PSpOglbo717faRpJtaLqyAHyZTGNxLGLItSpok4RCTQfc6SwUBhiF_DoCCO8qjSVqIps3z5h_2DrIO6TJaSbNOc6fdm54OO0rE/s200/india+045.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048852346308018274" /></a>at the coir factory and the pottery factory, we saw the whole process from raw material to shipping (see photo of pottery shipment). these cooperatives and communities have been doing this work for generations. it was really incredible. it's so cool to see how things are made. in 1992, when i was living and working in angola, africa we also visited factories to see how everyday things, like garden hoses, were made. i remember thinking that such field trips should be part of the curriculum in u.s. schools, but then i wondered if the u.s. actually makes anything anymore. our role in domestic and global economies seems to be that of consumer. the cultural and environmental implications of this are frightening.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidF8TrmCYtI92lc94ksNRCWYBS-jbJDBaWYZUnHPMdlaJMuny2T95klKgMXoMdQzsUpOrDx1kd63dY5yedqkj4KK1o2GcazdlVzuHBJ1QCXQEjjNRy_NVct8tkjA3sFBaYq1INoLXNKxg/s1600-h/india+027.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidF8TrmCYtI92lc94ksNRCWYBS-jbJDBaWYZUnHPMdlaJMuny2T95klKgMXoMdQzsUpOrDx1kd63dY5yedqkj4KK1o2GcazdlVzuHBJ1QCXQEjjNRy_NVct8tkjA3sFBaYq1INoLXNKxg/s200/india+027.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048854961943101554" /></a>nagercoil is near the southern most tip of india, where three bodies of water meet, the arabian sea, the bay of bengal and the indian ocean. kanyakamauri is the focal point of this very popular indian tourist area. latha took us there to see "the rock", where the vivekananda memorial is. the rock is an island about 400 meters off shore, and only accessible by ferry. on this trip i feel like i've been on every type of water transport possible - ship, riverboat, ferry, water taxi - and with the mekong delta ahead, i don't think i've seen the end of it. swami vivekananda meditated on the rock in 1892 before before becoming one of india's most popular crusaders. he has an institute in the la area, and toured the u.s. in the late 1800s. the memorial, the mandapam, was built on the rock in the 1970s. the views from the island are peaceful and serene, despite the many hindu pilgrims who flock here. we were the only westerners. actually, in chennai, nagercoil, and kanyakamari, there was no sign of tourism at all - no hotels, no tour operators, no westerners. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUXNVsX_KxEOl6NAaT4QDIIENpbuWQO8T754Lzb-WgYN79S01lPBnXgpvuHmcjXwbzwMuDjXlAeWQ9soogaWXn2Ohi5xxLJUnGOgTo0s4T2O2eJJmJ-vEYM54zKEmrM6laNM8PgWBaeo/s1600-h/india+026.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUXNVsX_KxEOl6NAaT4QDIIENpbuWQO8T754Lzb-WgYN79S01lPBnXgpvuHmcjXwbzwMuDjXlAeWQ9soogaWXn2Ohi5xxLJUnGOgTo0s4T2O2eJJmJ-vEYM54zKEmrM6laNM8PgWBaeo/s200/india+026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048845899562106930" /></a>latha, prem kala, and i on the rock, resting in the shade.<br /><br />latha also took us inside a 3000 year old temple, with all of the hindu gods carved into the outside . the temple was created over the reign of three gods. i felt somewhat uncomfortable and out of place, but latha really wanted to share it with us. we bought offerings for the god that was being honored that day, and visited three others. worshiping all could have taken hours. latha called it the short cut version. ghandi's shrine is also in this area too. although the attendants at the temple didn't given any indication that non-practicing foreigners weren't allowed, i don't think we would have been permitted in if latha wasn't with us. with latha, mahisa and prem kala by our side, the attendants guided us around and explained the significance and history to us. although it was hard to understand sometimes, they were very patient and gracious.<br /><br />latha's family also owns and operates a school we visited. instruction is in english. we spent time at the school interacting with the students, who were finishing up there end of the year exams. the students' native language is tamil, the language of this part of india (tamil nadu). in chennai, hindi is the lingua franca. there are 22 official indian languages.<br /><br />despite the busy streets, filled with every type of motor and peddle transport one can imagine, as well as every type of commerce imaginable, nargercoil is a rural community. unlike chennai, where one is hard pressed to find any open space, trees, or agricultural production. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbEVvtmThCp_bPECDCAOJeOhWLVmj4BJ2Oz_mXBGSaZzCZjqbHYiJIZsbnxlRHPNir5gJRYZigzHTsbUbBdwyUNGrq3qakozNFBIWZmg1Sik3dPCpqOQbOI7rr9iJRdbhJI6tRr0wI_Q/s1600-h/india+082.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbEVvtmThCp_bPECDCAOJeOhWLVmj4BJ2Oz_mXBGSaZzCZjqbHYiJIZsbnxlRHPNir5gJRYZigzHTsbUbBdwyUNGrq3qakozNFBIWZmg1Sik3dPCpqOQbOI7rr9iJRdbhJI6tRr0wI_Q/s200/india+082.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048850860249333842" /></a>after returning from nargercoil, i had two days to spend in chennai. the first day i spent shopping with students. the exchange rate is around 43 rupees to the dollar, which makes things ridicuously cheap for us. restaurant meals average about 150 rupees, and clothes in stores 150-300 rupees. i didn't buy as much as i thought i might. it's just so overwelming, there's so much to choose from. in chennai, more than shopping, i mostly enjoyed riding around on the motorized rickshaws. if you like carnival rides, you'll like rickshaw rides. you can cover a lot of ground in these zippy little things. their openness makes for nice natural air conditioning. riding a rickshaw is about the only time you'll feel the air move. it's stifling hot and humid, and the soot from all the motor bikes makes for a pretty grimmy experience. the pool deck was closed while we were docked in chennai. students were disappointed, but by the end of our stay it was clear why. there was a thick layer of soot over all the outdoor decks. for the first time there was actually visible dirt for the housekeeping crew to clean. normally, they seem to be cleaning and polishing what already seems to be clean.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtzpH59IU7m3zgP4HjsAUW7DfdVpFpv7g64ShpaFDVZzrY48wwEUtD0wKip32FCpaRIIfMoouabZ8bpvfxOv5OZrW8gwTNiBeiF-kmOOCG9-qFRcvlkhvXmYwZy55rnilzDKS6Ri41-Y/s1600-h/india+022.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtzpH59IU7m3zgP4HjsAUW7DfdVpFpv7g64ShpaFDVZzrY48wwEUtD0wKip32FCpaRIIfMoouabZ8bpvfxOv5OZrW8gwTNiBeiF-kmOOCG9-qFRcvlkhvXmYwZy55rnilzDKS6Ri41-Y/s200/india+022.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049912504015032306" /></a> i love this photo of prem kala and latha, taken on the ferry to the rock. i don't know how indian women manage to stay so clean and fresh in their beautiful saris, but they do. while in india, i don't think i've ever sweat so much in my life, especially when i returned to the ship right after two bus loads of students returned from agra (there were field trips to the taj mahal and other places in the north). after walking back from the post office in the heat, i had to wait in line behind all these students with luggage that needed to be checked for contraband (booze, food not sealed in it's original packaging, hookahs, etc.) before boarding the ship.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTxjlaMDyv48IpWqzpnb8lKaEpkqLWEn5lE2KlHAqJ8wqvfEQgl9sV5CJ-0nWBX7HVOqPmtv3WLf8aJ6Ckopg9jZT59wkyFPEgCaUfFAi8Yll0VxIwCdDlSXhP2jW_6Bo7UIZSJKiF9A/s1600-h/india+070.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTxjlaMDyv48IpWqzpnb8lKaEpkqLWEn5lE2KlHAqJ8wqvfEQgl9sV5CJ-0nWBX7HVOqPmtv3WLf8aJ6Ckopg9jZT59wkyFPEgCaUfFAi8Yll0VxIwCdDlSXhP2jW_6Bo7UIZSJKiF9A/s200/india+070.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049916575644028930" /></a>the second day in chennai, i went on an s@s field trip to the <a ref="http://www.workingwomensforum.org/">working women's forum</a>, a self identified indian feminist cooperative, that has a microlending and education program for women entrepreneurs. the president, dr. jaya arunachalam, organized a nice program for us, where we were told about how they promote self-relaince for indian women. we were also allowed to visit the bank where the women leaders, those who managed an eight women cohort of borrowers, were repaying loans.<br /><br />indian women were fascinated by me, especially my hair. although i'm clearly a part of a group of white americans, they never believe that i'm from the u.s. the population in southern india is quite dark, so while i'm fairly dark, especially with all the recent sun exposure (as one student put it, i'm sun drunk), i'm lighter skinned than many of them. yesterday while shopping in a traditional indian store, a little girl and her mother came up to me because her adorable little daughter wanted to talk to me, the strange lady fumbling her way through the three step checkout process at the store (shop and get your selections written up at the different counters; take invoices to the window to pay for merchandise [1215 rupees; visa accepted]; then to another window to pick up your merchandise, which were brought there from the different counters you selected them).<br /><br />i've never been to asia before, so i've been looking forward to this part of the voyage most. so far it hasn't been a disappointment at all. i feel farther away than i have elsewhere. although in one mall in chennai, there was a subway and pizza hut, i haven't seen a starbucks since puerto rico. i'm sure mcdonalds is somewhere in india, although because cows are sacred in india, maybe not.<br /><br />there are three days in between india and malaysia, barely enough time to get one's laundry done and pack again. in malaysia, i'll be traveling to kuala lumpur, but right now we're on the move again, and there is nothing but big sky and wide open seas that continues to mesmerize me.<br /><br />for those of you following my reading habits, you'll notice that i've diverged from my planned reading list. i came across <span style="font-style:italic;">reef</span> by romesh gunesekera, an award winning sri lankan writer, in the shipboard library and decided to read it while in india. today is a no class day. the library is only open 1200-2300, and i'm only working 3-4 hours. i hope to have time to start <span style="font-style:italic;">foreign babes in beijing</span>. i've picked up a couple other books along the way that i hope to read, so you may see those as current readings too. <span style="font-style:italic;">reef</span> is a short book, so it was read before i got a chance to update the blog. it was sort of ironic that i read it while being constantly waited on at the kumaraswamis. it is the story of trinton, the servant of mister salgado, who meets and falls in love with nili, who moves into the household. the story is told from trinton's perspective, and focuses on their lives together and his development, and ultimate independence, after many years of service. i'd never heard of the author, but it was a good find.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-47401914890828211892007-03-22T08:03:00.000-07:002007-08-19T10:54:03.791-07:00out of exilebetween cape town and mauritius i went into a self imposed exile. the constant social environment for someone who needs and loves generous amounts of solitude had caught up with me. since mauritius i've been slowly coming out again, and believe me there has been plenty to do. this week there was a sea olympics (the different cabin areas for students are named after bodies of water - aegean, caribbean, etc.). the winning sea gets to disembark first in san diego. i opted out of all this, except to watch parts of the basketball tournament. i opted in for the formal (got to dress up) captain's dinner last night with a small group of others. i ate shrimp cocktail, a cream of broccoli soup with almonds, greek salad, prime rib, chocolate moose cake and ice cream. tonight there was another bbq. i had ribs, a hamburger, corn on the cob, macaroni salad, and fruit punch. another recent culinary highlight was taco day, always a hit - recognizable food. myself, and most others, have been less than enthusiastic about the menu options (perhaps i've mentioned this before), so when something different comes along it's quite the spirit booster. of course, some students are still piling it high and shoveling it in. after all every meal is an all you can eat buffet, and as one student put it, "it's better than what i can cook for myself". personally, i'm looking forward to hitting the farmers market when i get home.<br /><br />between the normal dining hall food, the really really really bad internet service, and unrelable proxy service to the linking software (the equivalent to uc-elinks) to full text articles in UVA's bibliogrpahic databases, it's been a pretty frustrating few days since mauritius. i wish there was no internet service at all. learning to live without it would be easier than living with the pitifully slow (5+ minutes for a page to load, students play solitaire in between page loads) to non-existent service. i feel for students trying to write papers, blog, enroll in fall classes at their home institutions etc. oh, and here's the kicker, they're paying .40 cents a minute to be online. this is the first time i've been able to sign in to my blog in a few days, and am thinking about giving up the effort. the time comittment and anxiety is too great. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4l0EaZ-kRu44y6VoDQzhlYhtlzM_8UEcgBcCZSX6bJ-hTXS7yliAhvSH1J_iPf2oSwAdqJV-nZnIwJPSQE8pBsF39LNlmA38b3uCgNTUmFXRd6wpGiOtKRNAS1_hhh9BLPiNGScaEew/s1600-h/DSC00400.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4l0EaZ-kRu44y6VoDQzhlYhtlzM_8UEcgBcCZSX6bJ-hTXS7yliAhvSH1J_iPf2oSwAdqJV-nZnIwJPSQE8pBsF39LNlmA38b3uCgNTUmFXRd6wpGiOtKRNAS1_hhh9BLPiNGScaEew/s200/DSC00400.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044775372784725410" /></a>this week, i also attended a bridge tour, and saw from where the captain and his officers manage to get us from one port to another. lately the seas have been especially calm, completely different from the cape town to mauritius stretch. last night i woke up in the middle of the night thinking the ship had stopped. i didn't feel any movement at all. not long ago we were trying to keep from falling out of bed at night. more photos from the bridge, including captain jeremy, and erika, one of our library work study students:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIHsyNjHQntzSpThvVhMsHxGwZ6_jm7AYW8luGDEFGRSHudskZNd1riAtAwwmU1VjzP4mSYNRhGeaYX5ihI3xisobNN6STL7RPnnSsQwDtPhLAX32A3fAteD8v0hQrya8usL31TDgHc8/s1600-h/DSC00406.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIHsyNjHQntzSpThvVhMsHxGwZ6_jm7AYW8luGDEFGRSHudskZNd1riAtAwwmU1VjzP4mSYNRhGeaYX5ihI3xisobNN6STL7RPnnSsQwDtPhLAX32A3fAteD8v0hQrya8usL31TDgHc8/s200/DSC00406.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044939071168245170" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynwFbCVzh-PNPMa_UXPUQjp8UdMdgKss8czQ_irBNXbPQvVuHqCl0rHva77ZcOFKLt9wVbbDmVLsEgxVVPfgBhdeg_YLS177KeL5rCtH9yEvBRr2nTFGiCrbU2Rf8yuV61JoHT9_5WWk/s1600-h/DSC00403.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynwFbCVzh-PNPMa_UXPUQjp8UdMdgKss8czQ_irBNXbPQvVuHqCl0rHva77ZcOFKLt9wVbbDmVLsEgxVVPfgBhdeg_YLS177KeL5rCtH9yEvBRr2nTFGiCrbU2Rf8yuV61JoHT9_5WWk/s200/DSC00403.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044940449852747202" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9zkQ5rRQ83mW-nfYThpzWDCh05WyIwRgJChQR3ocyDMkyePQ_v1fqr52BiVVjPzjNi3TmUw1ME4Yjw16z03w-icTtvLyADGwhqXdh29NuECY_w4NmEuJOWsRNekSwJTueKX-GbnUlkg/s1600-h/DSC00401.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY9zkQ5rRQ83mW-nfYThpzWDCh05WyIwRgJChQR3ocyDMkyePQ_v1fqr52BiVVjPzjNi3TmUw1ME4Yjw16z03w-icTtvLyADGwhqXdh29NuECY_w4NmEuJOWsRNekSwJTueKX-GbnUlkg/s200/DSC00401.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044941411925421522" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmki8HiYWunU36aseXrKPYyxv3xbO8VObgcemQB-kU_dKEMvSCXTBo5jAE5NTbhs298jh-igougwFd64TWdyTqD9kn_2tmQ67XRu3Egp87Z3H2ot67CcU8LW3IqFhDSa_OobFsBDslDtQ/s1600-h/DSC00399.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmki8HiYWunU36aseXrKPYyxv3xbO8VObgcemQB-kU_dKEMvSCXTBo5jAE5NTbhs298jh-igougwFd64TWdyTqD9kn_2tmQ67XRu3Egp87Z3H2ot67CcU8LW3IqFhDSa_OobFsBDslDtQ/s200/DSC00399.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044942026105744866" /></a><br /><br />other programs and social events, include a q&a with the captain and his officers which is going on now, and a b-day party tonight for mary weil, the spouse of michael weil, one of the faculty. the party is being set up behind me, so i'm going to need to go soon.<br /><br />this next phase of the trip, we'll be in port more than on the ship. in india we'll be docked in chennai (formerly madras). i'll be doing a three day rural village, farm, and plantation visit in southern india (nagercoil and some other nearby areas). myself and five students will be traveling to the area on an overnight sleeper train and staying with a family that operates a school. i'll have two days when i get back to hang out in chennai, the city.<br /><br />now that i have a way to upload my photos, when i can, i'll try and do some retrospective uploading.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-69940474301390982402007-03-18T07:14:00.000-07:002007-08-19T10:45:24.017-07:00not quite out of africa<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FBjkFJapYErP3oxWcwHBGEqD-NLBtF0BMOn-w3odZCYDAazyMPKyJOaadUD6t3WDyqc9ZQ-WG3bbGlTcdxwJxsPskkNfo-NjM7-ty6NveLXEH2CkljUdLXc5-a0yLkt1jkD2YMGsAkQ/s1600-h/DSC00394.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7FBjkFJapYErP3oxWcwHBGEqD-NLBtF0BMOn-w3odZCYDAazyMPKyJOaadUD6t3WDyqc9ZQ-WG3bbGlTcdxwJxsPskkNfo-NjM7-ty6NveLXEH2CkljUdLXc5-a0yLkt1jkD2YMGsAkQ/s200/DSC00394.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044757290972409234" /></a>we left mauritius last night, and are in day one of seven to chennai, india. mauritius is a small island off southern africa, near madagascar, mauritius is african geographically and asian culturally. colonized first by the french then the british, who brought the indians to the island to do slave labor on the plantations. not surprisingly, today french influences are the most dominant – the language (french is dominant, but english is also an official language), and older architecture. our ship is docked in port louis, a city and working port. access to town is by water taxi, for 1usd or 50 rupees. the ride is about 100 meters and i’m sure most days their only riders are dock workers going to and from work. the last three days they have been making a killing, working over time i’m sure, and encountering probably more americans they are likely to ever again, at least until the next s@s ship arrives next spring.<br /><br />water taxis:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3DCX7ypDwIv_IsY_S9KF6ZafKMkI7Xlf0f6Z4tqs81ElY1H_cJRtlqVlUEx8DbB41n75jCkck-Iydyo6s_D0KlePy5lZ9QU9qSdCRfAiF_rSn233n33xS2jLxha_OxFpleLQS7XvXyIc/s1600-h/DSC00373.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3DCX7ypDwIv_IsY_S9KF6ZafKMkI7Xlf0f6Z4tqs81ElY1H_cJRtlqVlUEx8DbB41n75jCkck-Iydyo6s_D0KlePy5lZ9QU9qSdCRfAiF_rSn233n33xS2jLxha_OxFpleLQS7XvXyIc/s200/DSC00373.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044645982599966002" /></a><br /><br />around port louis:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenD3hqQApTsoG_J4M5Fjj4cmGeJ5WDYFQ61rZ8FGivPWjWaHfBTOIzCzEgdZSnMOKcC5pm3C_c1spSKwPvVAa_Y3r_-5swND36IsWTBX8e-Q_CDewJnkaWI-904cKjqumDip939aUJ7U/s1600-h/DSC00398.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenD3hqQApTsoG_J4M5Fjj4cmGeJ5WDYFQ61rZ8FGivPWjWaHfBTOIzCzEgdZSnMOKcC5pm3C_c1spSKwPvVAa_Y3r_-5swND36IsWTBX8e-Q_CDewJnkaWI-904cKjqumDip939aUJ7U/s200/DSC00398.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044946531526438386" /></a><br /><br />the colonial and post colonial converge in a local park, where this plaque was appended to a statue of a colonial figure.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiadLgz24aU2ZqcU_b08oE1UZP8hN_6atz3BsHZFoorD9cRb36VVQR0U_Rn_2_7SCLytQ-uxgwohj2IwMA1vzTc8wkG47mVrsTFUeSCu_dBuBA8AuD2WeIafClvcjWWQF2rmbTDyNL8LF4/s1600-h/DSC00369.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiadLgz24aU2ZqcU_b08oE1UZP8hN_6atz3BsHZFoorD9cRb36VVQR0U_Rn_2_7SCLytQ-uxgwohj2IwMA1vzTc8wkG47mVrsTFUeSCu_dBuBA8AuD2WeIafClvcjWWQF2rmbTDyNL8LF4/s200/DSC00369.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044947686872641026" /></a><br /><br />mauritius is a nice prelude to india, not as grand geographically and population wise, but the majority of the people are of indian decent, with some africans (mostly south Africans), and chinese. in preparing the shipboard community for an arrival a few ports back (brazil i think it was), dean mike commented that “you” will stick out, so don’t do anything to draw more attention to yourselves. one of the administrations favorite phrases in “protect your assets”, meaning not just your material ones. my thought at the time, other than the fact that he disregarded quite a few people of color on the ship, was obviously, all these white folks might stick out, but us black and brown ones won’t. everywhere we’ve been so far, i’ve managed to blend in and am frequently mistaken for a local until, i open my mouth, take out a camera, or wear a baseball cap for sun protection. And even then, american is the last nationality many associate me with. within 30 minutes of getting off the ship in mauritius i was asked the time and directions. this, obviously will change once we get to asia. there i expect to be more of a novelty than the white americans that invade every port with me. although the anonymity of being mistaken for a local is nice, especially in markets where i tend to want to observe more than buy, in asia i’m actually looking forward to being a different type of american ambassador. but, truth be told, the real american ambassadors are the hip hop generation – their music, dress, and language. in most countries we visited, i’ve spent most of my time away from the tourist and business centers, and in the neighborhoods. in every community from old san juan, puerto rico; to boipeba island,brazil; langa township, south africa; and rose hill, mauritius, hip hop (and hip hop soul) is heard from cars, homes and merchants, even on board the ship, where the mostly filipino crew, controls the music in the faculty lounge and on the pool deck. however, marley is playing now in the faculty lounge. back in the day, when i traveled outside the western u.s., (especially in the south) when i said i was from california, people would immediately think and ask about the legendary glamour of hollywood. in cape town when i said i was from california, i got a big grin and a reference to tupac. youth have more power than they realize. their perspective on the world is more highly regarded than bush’s or condi’s. however, obama is making quite an impression abroad. not surprisingly, the "two thirds world" would easily vote him into the white house, but i'm digressing.<br /><br />in the brief time we’ve been in mauritius, i’ve spent a day, with others, getting the lay of the land in the area around the ship – walking the waterfront, business district, chinatown, and central market in blazing heat and humidity (we got spoiled by cape town’s mediterranean climate). day 2 prof. judyie and i took the bus to rose hill, considered mauritius’s most dynamic community, to see how average mauritians live. we had lunch at the new york café; visited a public library; government offices; an art gallery that unfortunately had no exhibition up; open air markets, retail stores (came close to getting a usb jack for my camera, but no luck), and what i’ve loved doing ever since living in brooklyn and going on the annual neighborhood house tours, walking neighborhoods and looking at residential homes. i have to give a big shout out to harriet now, she’s a huge (way bigger than i) house tour enthusiast as well.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI82YAJ7oFuHkcU6iADw5NppdbBGdUZtSkAqeMr__7LWOxZxSmZfVArHViAlbyDN2LJfs3nsnLNcOT4Tom8QNshIPWqY_beGdFxrIjHXoBWNNqPSu5oisEsdG0MB41OZ2b9ILVU9KWssY/s1600-h/DSC00378.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI82YAJ7oFuHkcU6iADw5NppdbBGdUZtSkAqeMr__7LWOxZxSmZfVArHViAlbyDN2LJfs3nsnLNcOT4Tom8QNshIPWqY_beGdFxrIjHXoBWNNqPSu5oisEsdG0MB41OZ2b9ILVU9KWssY/s200/DSC00378.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044649882430270802" /></a>day three i spent the day at the royal botanic gardens in pamplemousses, which is in the north (rose hill is south of port louis). this time i went alone. on the buses you don’t pay the driver when you get on. you sit, then someone comes around, takes your fare, gives you change, if necessary, and a ticket (looks like it was memographed) generated from a small portable fare box that information of some sort is entered into, amount or destination i think. the north seemed more rural and traditional (more roadside vendors and small scale agricultural productions), the south more modern (more brick and mortar retailers). <br /><br />the gardens were a lovely place to spend the morning, after having a chocolate crepe at a tiny mall café – pamplemousses’s attempt at creating a tourist economy - across from the garden. the modern mini mall seemed out of place, especially its five star bathroom (it took me a few seconds to figure out how to turn on the intricately designed waterfall like facet in the bathroom.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwiGK8fQmFD8i6KkgfPL3XJt5-SNojdaHdwwaEqmVOenG67nE4u7gS6EQZoo-jBIEdyr-4Gc1wPnM5AlJkfAD5RB_IVF7FFU1ArbsS4BaeOb0p4fqPM8e1hqUHC3ljCO63LDnpx9bDL6g/s1600-h/DSC00390.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwiGK8fQmFD8i6KkgfPL3XJt5-SNojdaHdwwaEqmVOenG67nE4u7gS6EQZoo-jBIEdyr-4Gc1wPnM5AlJkfAD5RB_IVF7FFU1ArbsS4BaeOb0p4fqPM8e1hqUHC3ljCO63LDnpx9bDL6g/s200/DSC00390.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044647911040281922" /></a><br /><br />entrance to the garden is free, but you can hire a guide to give you a tour. this is encouraged, but i was low on rupees and it’s much more economical (no matter the currency, regardless of the exchange rate, i seem to go through it fast) and sensible for groups. also, i was there, in part, to find a quiet place to start a new book – graham greene’s, <span style="font-style:italic;">the quiet american</span>. thus, i can’t tell you much about the history, mission, or horticultural aspects of the place other than my observations that trees were featured more than plants (there was a section for medicinal plants), especially palm trees, many many varieties, most of which i’ve never seen before. the occasional display of flowers and plants included some commonly found in southern california, like hibiscus, birds of paradise, cannis, and some bower like vines. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTnutRi805uz7ilUdcCYjxiaQkgAPQfGCRdl04lWmSmfEZ69dYCOfnDWzfsPs8MRGIm_SfUD14JpkGWkxazKC31D68BX8SF_gIp5V7E_oYTEOASbqvZ78hok8lYWfa2AwdT5J7l-ZrrBw/s1600-h/DSC00391+(2).JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTnutRi805uz7ilUdcCYjxiaQkgAPQfGCRdl04lWmSmfEZ69dYCOfnDWzfsPs8MRGIm_SfUD14JpkGWkxazKC31D68BX8SF_gIp5V7E_oYTEOASbqvZ78hok8lYWfa2AwdT5J7l-ZrrBw/s200/DSC00391+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044958329801600530" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig85hj8xXBfBmVgNw4P4cgoXUKMFw3l8R8AeBhBfQNyxxq1QWuVMSTXkPq4zhuXQm53rHP-S9KUWPepzW9smlZpzF5Leskx4FbnqeHdQGKxQo99tcbq28cdeDPyK9oYIjLYqJ7wjT1-Us/s1600-h/DSC00382.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig85hj8xXBfBmVgNw4P4cgoXUKMFw3l8R8AeBhBfQNyxxq1QWuVMSTXkPq4zhuXQm53rHP-S9KUWPepzW9smlZpzF5Leskx4FbnqeHdQGKxQo99tcbq28cdeDPyK9oYIjLYqJ7wjT1-Us/s200/DSC00382.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044652416460975458" /></a><br /><br />also prominent were many strangling fig trees (above photo is just one type), which i first encountered in beechwood, australia (nsw), and a variety of which i saw in old san juan. the lotus were also quite cool. the photos i took will be more informative than my observations. one notable observation, not captured on film was that many of the trees in one section were planted by royals, military officers, and other leaders. princess margaret, indira Gandhi are two that come to mind. this was the most british aspect of the island that i’ve seen, other than the english language signs everywhere.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkia8bIZiPJAzvNA8rNbqI65YIcsm-1uZIjYxbPQLBizdt9WExtuBEJB0x3fYdVkgpC4NcThv3YKy6ADy1ExKwUuQa_lt198GI4FWZP6ncZ_gHqZLhLA6T8ytQ1NxDoGuuvVc1zCRPLQk/s1600-h/DSC00384.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkia8bIZiPJAzvNA8rNbqI65YIcsm-1uZIjYxbPQLBizdt9WExtuBEJB0x3fYdVkgpC4NcThv3YKy6ADy1ExKwUuQa_lt198GI4FWZP6ncZ_gHqZLhLA6T8ytQ1NxDoGuuvVc1zCRPLQk/s200/DSC00384.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044753958077787506" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4UAzZL5eEj8c_RxAaL8q3ayIhP6rOV7IbO6iiwe-q300Um2V5b1519u3oo_40JwOS-FDR7WWc2DNyUKznAfGSZaGZnnmXWpQsztUio8XRhOWK-rZP-hLI7UNcrEJTOut0qDbUFUiJPk/s1600-h/DSC00389.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4UAzZL5eEj8c_RxAaL8q3ayIhP6rOV7IbO6iiwe-q300Um2V5b1519u3oo_40JwOS-FDR7WWc2DNyUKznAfGSZaGZnnmXWpQsztUio8XRhOWK-rZP-hLI7UNcrEJTOut0qDbUFUiJPk/s200/DSC00389.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044755542920719746" /></a><br /><br />what i didn’t see in mauritius were any beaches, and the resorts on the other side of the island, where most students rented villas, so that they can get drunk without adult supervision. i love beaches, but i was born and raised on the california coast, and have visited beaches in the caribbean, latin america, south america, turkey, greece, and australia. with regard to beaches, i don’t expect to experience anything i haven’t already.<br /><br />if i come back to mauritius, i look forward to visiting some of the communities i passed on the bus.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-63452969893016386882007-03-14T23:27:00.000-07:002007-08-19T10:28:46.933-07:00renewing my vowsfor the first time in awhile i woke up rested with nothing that i have to do - always my favorite days no matter where i'm at. since most of the rest of the ship is in the same boat - no pun intended - getting up at 8am (first time in a while that i've been up early) one gets to enjoy a quiet morning, in the dining hall, computer lab, and on the decks, even the pool deck which is usually swarming with students. i took advantage of the time to work online at a speed faster than when 700 others are slowing down the limited satellite connection. since then i've been sitting outside immersed in the music world of (scott) <span style="font-style:italic;">joplin's ghost</span>, big blue sky, mild temps, low humidity, calm waters and inhabited land in sight. it's absolutely beautiful, and more importantly, with students still sleeping, absolutely peaceful. wish you were here.<br /><br />my mauritius field trip was canceled, but we will be getting in earlier than anticipated, 1200 instead of 1600. during our 2.5 days in mauritius, i hope to visit chinatown, the botanic gardens, and rose hill, a community outside the tourist zone, too see how the locals live.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-17696484527654492282007-03-14T07:58:00.000-07:002007-08-19T10:26:23.903-07:00honeymoon is overanother port is within reach, and the natives are getting restless. especially since there has been a delay. the indian ocean hasn't been kind. although it always looks like a beautiful day outside, since leaving south africa, on ship it seems as if we're in the middle of a hurricane or an 8 pointer on the richter scale. the waves don't seem huge, but they're powerful enough to lunge the ship forward, backward and sideways when it's not jerking or swaying ever which way. my cabin is in the forward part of the ship on the third deck. while in my cabin, it sounds like the jolly green giant is moving furniture, nothing like the waves everyone claims it is. other times it's like being on both a roller coaster and a water bed.<br /><br />as a result of having to sail around some rough areas (it was just too much for too long) and leaving cape town later than planned, it was announced we would be getting into mauritius late in the day, rather than early in the morning. <br /><br />we find out tonight how this is going to play out for those of us who have field trips in the morning. i had signed up for an all day field trip visiting various women's groups. more than anything i was excited about getting up in the morning, knowing i'd be getting off the ship, getting some decent food (they served freezer burned ice cream tonight), and not having the ground move under my feet. yes folks the honeymoon is over. oh and they say we'll probably run out of water in india, and will have to ration if we don't conserve enough. <br /><br />the novelty of ship life is over, and i fantasize about being at home, working in my poor neglected garden, having a ventura gathering to see all your friendly faces, waking up to sunlight, and generally chillin until i have to be back at work in july. then i remember my house is sublet until may 13. no problem, same fantasy. i have the keys to a few of your homes. miss ya terribly! by the way, what are you doing spring break?<br /><br />tananarive due's <em>joplin's ghost </em>is currently my best comfort. she must have had some strange relationships in her life. her male characters have such bizarre baggage. in one book the brother is immortal - imagine what type of baggage a brother can accumulate with that type of life span - and in this one the brother's a ghost - not the best partner material.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-13378983997700173952007-03-14T07:48:00.000-07:002007-08-17T18:26:25.860-07:00tell the worldtouring poverty is not something one is comfortable doing. in cape town there are numerous organized tours of the townships. the guide books and activists encourage visiting the townships for a complete picture of south african culture. township residents, at least those we met, encourage it because if not for the tours the government wouldn’t feel any pressure to improve conditions. by opening their homes and communities to strangers, and agreeing to be photographed (I couldn't take pictures) it’s there way of saying tell the world (ironically, later that night we saw <em>the last king of scotland</em>, another tell the world story). our tour guide said the people’s homes we entered do get paid, but i think he was just telling us what we wanted to hear.<br /><br />i went on a half day tour which included, in route to the township, highlights of local landmarks (including the field where our guide, and other boys coming of age, were ceremonially circumcised at age eighteen with a spear; way more than I needed to know for sure), some history of the forced removals, racial classifications, and how they determined your classification when it wasn’t easily apparent based on their criteria. i'm not going to go into the asinine details, but we can have great fun later thinking of all the subversive ways those tested could have made life difficult for the white supremacists.<br /><br />we visited langa township (established 1927 and south africa’s oldest planned township). the population of langa is 250,000, the same as the city centre area, which is 48 times larger. the first stop on the tour was the guga s’thebe arts & cultural centre, where residents can come to learn craft related skills (pottery, metalworking, beadworking, etc.), and how to run a small business. the rest of the afternoon was a walking tour that began at a recycling center, the tsoga environmental resource centre. from their we walked the neighborhood for an hour visiting a preschool and the various types of housing in the community. the worst are shacks smaller than walk-in closets, about a notch above a refrigerator box on 5th avenue or la’s skid row, to single family detached cement homes with a yard, and in some cases a fence. like in the days following desegregation in the u.s. all classes of blacks lived within the same neighborhood or in close proximity. more housing is being built in langa and judyie tells me that there is actually a waiting list to rent or own property there. there’s plenty more the government needs to do to lift people out of poverty. some residents aren’t waiting for the government and are starting and getting involved in grassroots programs promoting self-reliance. one incentive the government has to improve conditions, as opposed to just covering them up, as they have been accused of doing, is "2010", when the world comes to south africa for the world cup.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-75713559331070762672007-03-11T06:59:00.000-07:002007-08-17T18:17:23.415-07:00weary blueshey comrades, wondering why i have no photos in my south africa posts? originally i planned to do the text then add the photos. doing both simultaneously is cumbersome, and risky when using the ships' satellite to go online. unfortunately, since then i've lost or misplaced my camera cable. photos will be back once the cable turns up, or when i'm able to replace the cable, or when i find one to borrow that's compatible with my camera. hopefully, it will turn up, because i don't expect to be able to replace it soon, and i'd rather not spend my port time shopping for such stuff, or shipboard time searching for a compatible cable. don't get me started on time issues. between san juan and cape town we had to set our clocks forward four nights. since leaving cape town two days ago, we've already had to set our clocks forward. in the end we loose an entire day. we do april 30 twice. lost time combined with fatigue (better than full blown motion sickness though) that occurs as a result of the recent rough waters and the accompanying rocking and rolling of the ship makes for weary blues.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-75581326006657288152007-03-10T03:47:00.000-08:002007-08-17T18:14:26.034-07:00more cape town<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGCq57EwBcMOvI3RjbXtTNMjb2sZ3aTxJ8POamwUWV7QUJtzh7bV438UmG7eH9NDRmjfBkZEGBnRmfP6QwOrGAQ9RpkWgiZr0kKGEcG-V-HeGuq1qb80nnMdO1URRBU4AUkM1eF7hyphenhyphentE/s1600-h/DSC00317.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGCq57EwBcMOvI3RjbXtTNMjb2sZ3aTxJ8POamwUWV7QUJtzh7bV438UmG7eH9NDRmjfBkZEGBnRmfP6QwOrGAQ9RpkWgiZr0kKGEcG-V-HeGuq1qb80nnMdO1URRBU4AUkM1eF7hyphenhyphentE/s400/DSC00317.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063177636467083010" /></a>before leaving the u.s., i had been in contact with celia walter, the gender studies, psychology and political science librarian at the <a href="http://www.uct.ac.za/">university of cape town </a>(uct). while in town i visited uct, a beautiful sprawling campus perched above the city with majestic views, beautiful historic ivy covered buildings, (clearly the ivy league of cape town in contrast to <a href="http://www.uwc.ac.za/portal/public/home/index.htm">uwc</a>, the university of the left; aka the bush university) and a multiracial and multiethnic student body, now. it was the first day of classes for a new academic year, so the energy was quite high. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktKG1TkePzwTZFdfqE2wiVHT9G1p9xSOOmi6dFLtqkG2uoIxpSERstFlTwmog3K0-3iE5EsHMlV5jo9oGbngAFl1aTl5lBlyzxCZtPRTSWUndDvnLpAVuodOnVmWG5PlhrJSGHgp8yOE/s1600-h/DSC00315.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktKG1TkePzwTZFdfqE2wiVHT9G1p9xSOOmi6dFLtqkG2uoIxpSERstFlTwmog3K0-3iE5EsHMlV5jo9oGbngAFl1aTl5lBlyzxCZtPRTSWUndDvnLpAVuodOnVmWG5PlhrJSGHgp8yOE/s400/DSC00315.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063178774633416466" /></a>once i made my way to the library through the throngs of students making their way to class, celia gave me a comprehensive tour of the library: the knowledge commons (computing w/support), serials, special collections, the africana studies collection, reference areas, their state of the art electronic classroom. joan rapp, an american, with a connection to detrice (aul for hr) at the ucsb libraries, is the director. unfortunately, she was away during my visit.<br /><br />the library is as beautiful as the campus. it's bright and airy with original art everywhere, including a metal life size metal sculptor of south african <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saartjie_Baartman">saartjie baartman</a>, the hottentot venus.<br /><br />after visiting the library, i spent some time at the uct african gender institute. i would liked to have spent more time there, but had afternoon plans. a full day at uct would have been better.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgX_wOMVLWu3iS3-U95q4k_kOBYkPKZ2y5l6R6TZUsFv4U-6gSoxx9S1KD1__1ARBBiWZYJSWVWdkto_uJjhMxGVnaXTjA2QspmK_JIB3XiCceQvMUZnaaC2HiXsqP60AQn5NAYDbEhw/s1600-h/DSC00324.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgX_wOMVLWu3iS3-U95q4k_kOBYkPKZ2y5l6R6TZUsFv4U-6gSoxx9S1KD1__1ARBBiWZYJSWVWdkto_uJjhMxGVnaXTjA2QspmK_JIB3XiCceQvMUZnaaC2HiXsqP60AQn5NAYDbEhw/s400/DSC00324.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063179947159488290" /></a>later in the day, i visited bo kaap, the cape malay quarter of cape town. cape malays are south africans of south asian decent that came to the county as slaves, political prisoners, and from other parts of africa. their lingua franca was malay, hence they became know as cape malays. they are also referred to as "the merchant class". a wordsworth bookstore clerk recommended a restaurant there (Biesmiellah that serves cape malay cuisine), which i'd been trying to get to since my first day in town. while there, in addition to enjoying the colorful neighborhood of brightly colored homes (see photo), i also spent time at the atlas trading company, where spices, herbs, teas and other culinary goodies are sold.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5oCapID-0pNeQs-X35oDcFKQ72K2RiNV1PmEtWHM21fM-HXx21qg52RqbhUIT639XIyCXAik3f2lcAIjDhHgEqZMxbPW9g8hC0bTlt-DPnqhjRkhAgO6joEhquoEv2CaVTDFl8HUY_Lc/s1600-h/DSC00326.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5oCapID-0pNeQs-X35oDcFKQ72K2RiNV1PmEtWHM21fM-HXx21qg52RqbhUIT639XIyCXAik3f2lcAIjDhHgEqZMxbPW9g8hC0bTlt-DPnqhjRkhAgO6joEhquoEv2CaVTDFl8HUY_Lc/s400/DSC00326.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063181209879873330" /></a>throughout cape town, coke signs (gratis to merchants of course), like table mountain, can be seen everywhere (townships, waterfront, city bowl, bo kaap, etc.). unlike coke, table mountain is beautiful and comforting, and serves as a good reference for getting one's geographic bearings. coke is an aesthetic, social construct, and expense one can live without.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOLfx4gQ-OlIP-Ty_Fyg8Hmq3uohD-6tm3QN4j5RtslRUdbn-PF_K7O9TvwmFDZw1247JPp1PZp4EGc3vqkK0UEjnwP2IhUOl_vCV26oXiR1wNmfZ-9QoS0QBbkB0ZTK_X0Mr21ZNaqmU/s1600-h/DSC00285.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOLfx4gQ-OlIP-Ty_Fyg8Hmq3uohD-6tm3QN4j5RtslRUdbn-PF_K7O9TvwmFDZw1247JPp1PZp4EGc3vqkK0UEjnwP2IhUOl_vCV26oXiR1wNmfZ-9QoS0QBbkB0ZTK_X0Mr21ZNaqmU/s400/DSC00285.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063183022356072258" /></a>nearby is the city bowl area, where i previously visited the national gallery, company (botanic) gardens, long street and african music store. parliament and the national library are also in the area, but were closed the sunday i strolled by.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-23019483210265399962007-03-09T05:53:00.000-08:002007-08-17T18:05:43.353-07:00the past in the present<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiUJfll6EI-F17xNjXFpdgGoZRqDxshpdMPsV94oTGzWazXiroYVqutYtOakGD-t73NCCNcXaFAMBlGCupLznVCqcUMxeAyNJ22zoBML_8EPT-5p63WSJqMc9Kmn58oGFoLNMnVHmyMlU/s1600-h/DSC00283.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiUJfll6EI-F17xNjXFpdgGoZRqDxshpdMPsV94oTGzWazXiroYVqutYtOakGD-t73NCCNcXaFAMBlGCupLznVCqcUMxeAyNJ22zoBML_8EPT-5p63WSJqMc9Kmn58oGFoLNMnVHmyMlU/s400/DSC00283.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063168428057200322" /></a>my first encounter with south africans was at the waterfront, where the ship was docked - a very vibrant, commercial, and western area with yachts, upscale indoor malls, waterfront bars, restaurants and cafes, as well as tour companies and other recreational activities. racially it is a very mixed area with all south africans mixing easily and comfortably. it's a tourist area for sure, but south africans congregate here too because it's considered safe. <br /><br />at first it seems remarkable that apartheid existed here so recently (laws abolished in 1991; elections in 1994). it's hard to reconcile the past with the present - the long history of oppression with the present - its model constitution, the public interaction of black, white and colored peoples in cape town malls, restaurants, museums, and bars. it's really baffling that such freedoms are a new phenomenon that whites feared and opposed for centuries. what exactly was so frightening. the current social state seems so natural, as if it's always been. what was the big deal about different peoples mixing. i wonder if the people feel the past in the present? i think they must. i didn't live through jim crow or slavery, but in the u.s. i, sadly, still feel, and see signs of, that past in the present.<br /><br />the brown paper studio international field trip wasn't at all what i expected or described in the previous post. it was a full day of theatrical play with some of south africa's youth, students too young to remember apartheid. it was a welcome change from talking to older south africans i met at the waterfront who experienced and enjoyed the benefits of being part of one of the more privileged groups under apartheid, some of who aren't thrilled with the redistribution of resources, especially land and jobs. one taxi driver told me he preferred life under apartheid. i had to ask him what his racial status was under apartheid; it wasn't obvious. he proudly stated that he was colored then and still is. other complaints are about the immigration of africans from other countries, and escalating housing costs. however, many of these same people have never visited a township, and don't know how fortunate they are to have any job, and a home made from more than found materials - cardboard, tin and and a few two by fours - constructed on the side of the road.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQ4NHQ2cVvlZZ_Cq1XKt4uOihsLFaWqHVGd05w45qSP1pe3YbjicIJQpAyDO0W6mOR_FOrSsOMstMNIHCZlO30FZb2_9uMIlkcfo6GqneSwTDkTcFGZgWfNW1f_cyUV2AyedAQ-t9cpc/s1600-h/DSC00328+(2).JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQ4NHQ2cVvlZZ_Cq1XKt4uOihsLFaWqHVGd05w45qSP1pe3YbjicIJQpAyDO0W6mOR_FOrSsOMstMNIHCZlO30FZb2_9uMIlkcfo6GqneSwTDkTcFGZgWfNW1f_cyUV2AyedAQ-t9cpc/s400/DSC00328+(2).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063172826103711474" /></a>brown paper studio international (bpsi) is a theater company judyie al-bilali (pictured; s@s theater prof) started in 2000 when she was teaching at the university of the western cape (aka the university of the left; a university with a history of protest, first against the the university, then against apartheid). the s@s field trip judyie organized was a historical tour in reverse chronological order of bpsi groups and performance spaces. our first stop was azaad youth services in district six, the current home of bpsi. district six was a vibrant mixed area before apartheid. it is also where the first forced removals occurred. it was made a colored only area. at azaad, the company is one of several skills building programs for people 18 and older. when the director of azaad, a polish immigrant who physically helped tear down the berlin wall, saw her work with young people across racial groups, he invited her to join azaad. judyie teaches movement and theater, using techniques where students have to express themselves without words (only sounds and movement). she has developed a bpsi group on the ship. while at azaad and the other bpsi performance spaces we played a variety games and performed movement pieces with south african company members. south african and s@s bpsi members taught the rest of us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79gX04xToBSa_kxjdYhCor9tFV-W05ZzyUOquz6-9cv5qGoZxozKhm9iG9Ro0lInIy1et2ZRM-B4777vHtU8jkcAUqjeJGndsL6vtTLSoxyrOcEt8pn32KgPWRc_JWR3V1kwLVyWWKBo/s1600-h/DSC00330.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79gX04xToBSa_kxjdYhCor9tFV-W05ZzyUOquz6-9cv5qGoZxozKhm9iG9Ro0lInIy1et2ZRM-B4777vHtU8jkcAUqjeJGndsL6vtTLSoxyrOcEt8pn32KgPWRc_JWR3V1kwLVyWWKBo/s400/DSC00330.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063170859008689874" /></a>the next space and bpsi company we visited was at glendale high school in mitchell plains, part of the cape flats (colored communities and township settlements can be found here) where students (colored and bussed blacks) did bpsi work as part of a school program. they led us in a number of excecises, performed a piece of their own, told us about what bpsi meant to them, and generally hung out with us before we headed to our final stop uwc, where bpsi originated. <br /><br />at the university of the western cape (uwc) we did more of the same - they performed for us, we performed with them, we heard about the history of the school, we heard from a filmmaker who did a film about a local hip hop icon (mr. devious) who was killed while trying to save his father from a mugging. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdfOOnEFvw9EskYaUnVeLlAbKARJo5Sqgh424aLg4F7-LIGkQUIhjxYSobmBX3s4MSj7Pe1X0_L56zu8jbRahgDEsdm830gaUBZf1quLhBC1tb33-9LJki2EUPEB5WZYBWDIUSpzsLclI/s1600-h/DSC00339.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdfOOnEFvw9EskYaUnVeLlAbKARJo5Sqgh424aLg4F7-LIGkQUIhjxYSobmBX3s4MSj7Pe1X0_L56zu8jbRahgDEsdm830gaUBZf1quLhBC1tb33-9LJki2EUPEB5WZYBWDIUSpzsLclI/s400/DSC00339.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063166246213813938" /></a>these students, like the younger ones we met, were much more positive about the current and future state of south africa. they also stood out amongst their peers, because they did the hard work of working across racial lines to create something of their own, together.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-60281833144824647352007-03-05T10:59:00.000-08:002007-08-17T17:59:35.509-07:00sherri bad tourist<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwDW_r1iY6vMl1IAb_5fNUfcWbk1C9hVzsHdmXHvhVNsH11aOvDOpSaznLEeSXEpGggR_Nht-RbqgVlxERV4czIe7NnXEBLVS3rCd1UTn7qJ4iH_OaKLf3e8xQAUpKmjQkBqJv9bbHFUc/s1600-h/DSC00296.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwDW_r1iY6vMl1IAb_5fNUfcWbk1C9hVzsHdmXHvhVNsH11aOvDOpSaznLEeSXEpGggR_Nht-RbqgVlxERV4czIe7NnXEBLVS3rCd1UTn7qJ4iH_OaKLf3e8xQAUpKmjQkBqJv9bbHFUc/s400/DSC00296.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063185745365337938" /></a>i've been in cape town three days, and haven't done any of the big tourist attractions - table mountain, robben island, the wine country, kruger, park, etc. i was feeling bad about it for awhile. then i realized i was having my own type of fun, walking the neighborhoods; browsing bookstores and music stores; doing museums and craft markets; eating; and visiting the university of cape town's (pictured) beautiful campus and library (more on UCT later). i hope to do the public library and the national library before i go, but i may run out of that soft illusive time. it took me two days to adjust to dealing with days of the week (dates are a lost cause). furthermore, at each port, like at library conferences, once you get your bearings, figure out all you want to do and learn, and how to do it, it's time to go.<br /><br />worth mentioning is also dinner at the archbishop's home, which was a wonderfully, casual affair, but i did wear a dress, and sesheta you'll be glad to know, lipstick too, but no jewelry (didn't bring any and haven't bought any for myself yet.) an eclectic array of folks from the ship attended - dean larry and his wife barbara, captain jeremy and his girlfriend apple, vic and salomon from the dining hall staff, dia the registra, shayla the administrative assistant, and judyie the theater prof. the archbishops cabin steward was invited, but she was a bit overwhelmed by the idea and chose not to come. the archbishop asked that people who have been serving him on the ship be invited. it was a modest affair, much like our ventura gatherings (buffet style, hanging out eating and drinking with friends and family). much to my delight, many other south africans were there - a priest (bartending), activists, kids, ngo workers, and more. we didn't stay long enough for me to talk with all of them, and i'm not sure who all the people were, at least their relationship to the archbishop. except, of course mrs. leah tutu, who has a huge sense of humor like her husband.<br /><br />the archbishop reminds me of my dear sisterfriend sesheta. both have an enormous sense of humor and are comfortable giving directives. i suppose both traits are useful for non-violently abolishing oppressive regimes, nation building, and educating young people, as sesheta has dedicated her life to. wish you were here sweetie. i know i say this at every port, but we must come back here together, for "the african music store" alone. yakini you'd be in heaven.<br /><br />the dollar goes a long way here, but it's hard to tell by the time you leave this fabulous music store, where the staff are the most impressive information resources i've ever seen at work. i asked them to tell me the name of this female kwaito (a local type of hip hop music) singer that wears traditional dress and makeup. although the sister was a pop singer, after a few follow-up questions (for librarians, a reference interview), they quickly determined who i was talking about. i witnessed them do the same for several people. the cds on display are for listening and anything you want to buy they page for you. before buying you can listen to as much as you want for as long as you want - not just samples from selections, but entire tracks. in a bar style set-up, they load your cd into a cd player, which you control completely, except for loading and ejecting the cd. you put on the headphones and you're good to go - happy - but by the time you make your selections, with a lot less cash.<br /><br />with three days left, my plans are - an s@s field trip organized by prof. judyie, the theater prof. when she was living here and working at the university of the western cape, she started a performance company called brown paper studio international. we'll be visiting the district six museum (a museum that documents the first forced removal of a community under apartheid); mitchell's plains in cape flats, a colored area; and uwc where we preview some student work, music, video etc. the next day i'm doing a township tour, and then the last day, im going to tag along with <a href="http://www.gng.org/">global nomads</a> (they do live video broadcasts between students from different countries and create video shorts of aspects of cultures they visit. while sailing with s@s, they're theme is religions of the world. <br /><br />table mountain, robbens island, and the wine country (not the wine), i'll have to experience next time.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-75845816686744736182007-02-27T03:34:00.001-08:002011-07-11T09:31:25.013-07:00boipeba island, brazil<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2g1-ngixIQu3S2TQZhSx8lfVF5WyQlqxwE5KoYqrtaVF8FFLDtN__guz22hs18UtPmUVw3tbIWaopyZOVp3QNsQHyeGU7DfIW8flCBlR7qx8IhectDMw3FGI3XPDnhyphenhyphenBO3iIE0j7Zu3M/s1600-h/sal02.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2g1-ngixIQu3S2TQZhSx8lfVF5WyQlqxwE5KoYqrtaVF8FFLDtN__guz22hs18UtPmUVw3tbIWaopyZOVp3QNsQHyeGU7DfIW8flCBlR7qx8IhectDMw3FGI3XPDnhyphenhyphenBO3iIE0j7Zu3M/s200/sal02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036211719891833794" border="0" /></a>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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPJmtNaSXKSSQHP2dQRMJyylYWkFI45Cmnx-8EbxrzkoxiacGEOIGDYaCJXV9UjN5Ct2sO23gF1JSieDC3VYES8dRQIM2REPNnAzbgdh_RgjX5aqHzUHCofwa_rgJD7cgFIqAavbzFIs/s1600-h/pousada+quarters+II.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPJmtNaSXKSSQHP2dQRMJyylYWkFI45Cmnx-8EbxrzkoxiacGEOIGDYaCJXV9UjN5Ct2sO23gF1JSieDC3VYES8dRQIM2REPNnAzbgdh_RgjX5aqHzUHCofwa_rgJD7cgFIqAavbzFIs/s200/pousada+quarters+II.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036198903709422450" border="0" /></a>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.” <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhssWoOM75Rid8oqj8zE6mwH7CIX5HBzVcCynQNKasNeT-mkuCDHakpeXiJGD9ku8RJQPm9YrL4Wue26Vo8aNZnC_sV2x84aYc1_qtMn6sm88aAHpEA3PketPfV6RRoMXQTRKvGqM6XnA/s1600-h/pottery.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhssWoOM75Rid8oqj8zE6mwH7CIX5HBzVcCynQNKasNeT-mkuCDHakpeXiJGD9ku8RJQPm9YrL4Wue26Vo8aNZnC_sV2x84aYc1_qtMn6sm88aAHpEA3PketPfV6RRoMXQTRKvGqM6XnA/s200/pottery.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036200952408822658" border="0" /></a>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. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvZC5fhUybfNpMUFolAPGeZiULH-j6Q2dwFA4kL4zmOkpJDilv1zJmKtwqj2qxnq0LR_8_9Lh9EF3TmJzX46acG7F0J6Ik7O8TsAP1Puw0B3OHyKferoyejDt3A_RrflJ-5t6OffH6-k/s1600-h/manioca+production.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvZC5fhUybfNpMUFolAPGeZiULH-j6Q2dwFA4kL4zmOkpJDilv1zJmKtwqj2qxnq0LR_8_9Lh9EF3TmJzX46acG7F0J6Ik7O8TsAP1Puw0B3OHyKferoyejDt3A_RrflJ-5t6OffH6-k/s200/manioca+production.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036204740569977746" border="0" /></a>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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkt-EFz6nadTv_dgDNJ6rtB_Om4jTgqeC8gLqOs1WwiX2S9s2BJGt8OW4Ln9-pnyGVp7Vhc72D2mLK25ucT5mp0_CnodzDyclZYOz_JdJmY5kaUj4aeYQ9g22_wpzOwykaKU_AxXA6z0/s1600-h/palm+oil+II.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkt-EFz6nadTv_dgDNJ6rtB_Om4jTgqeC8gLqOs1WwiX2S9s2BJGt8OW4Ln9-pnyGVp7Vhc72D2mLK25ucT5mp0_CnodzDyclZYOz_JdJmY5kaUj4aeYQ9g22_wpzOwykaKU_AxXA6z0/s200/palm+oil+II.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036206364067615650" border="0" /></a>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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJmxzD8DD24Na2CwVyPqUeBRuQQET1CD_GA848Fyj3UWYOlbgdEZGpJDCiiTkafABvBwuzJku3zvGO1zNuKRKb2SHkW1F_wCV5v-Ic4nO6ybo3EfpmDt0KeSRCdYiW2no66NzbUfRpNDQ/s1600-h/machete+man.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJmxzD8DD24Na2CwVyPqUeBRuQQET1CD_GA848Fyj3UWYOlbgdEZGpJDCiiTkafABvBwuzJku3zvGO1zNuKRKb2SHkW1F_wCV5v-Ic4nO6ybo3EfpmDt0KeSRCdYiW2no66NzbUfRpNDQ/s200/machete+man.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036212630424900562" border="0" /></a>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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg271GL6ZkrTHyafz0X9reFYM1ooc31nTeErIuRUEJ3CczJU2fKkapr2Q21AmhQVacpeCStboJRw0SCb4gkEG70VeBTCvpTqOnlLurZvHqKwva33DEkVYBtHAcoENGYto2PPWB1BkMZmvc/s1600-h/marchinous.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg271GL6ZkrTHyafz0X9reFYM1ooc31nTeErIuRUEJ3CczJU2fKkapr2Q21AmhQVacpeCStboJRw0SCb4gkEG70VeBTCvpTqOnlLurZvHqKwva33DEkVYBtHAcoENGYto2PPWB1BkMZmvc/s200/marchinous.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036226421564888114" border="0" /></a>marquinous wondering why we can't keep up:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeR00pcxYjzrimF8eObyXlwh34DQFkWg9A_YoG2Jsb4Gnb1o5nGDWlxZuHtb8JvcMGNlupVOdafRwry2Qh1QdeC1uM_4s1tbCs9VwvymWk-k3D-n62CaEVDozclgrjnSzVv_A1lFul4c/s1600-h/oyster+shells.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeR00pcxYjzrimF8eObyXlwh34DQFkWg9A_YoG2Jsb4Gnb1o5nGDWlxZuHtb8JvcMGNlupVOdafRwry2Qh1QdeC1uM_4s1tbCs9VwvymWk-k3D-n62CaEVDozclgrjnSzVv_A1lFul4c/s200/oyster+shells.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036214541685347298" border="0" /></a>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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPnHE1kXlng-Q21jhuRPTW7RhNBzWhFoDs65btraMGXkJwLc4tXxKM4Iyf-XC1QhoVDdNVCxVGWgfNXxap7hyphenhyphenq-qPHbRV5xark9H6GXBwj2kKksqmXtz0MTY1VkxBZ7k4nB1veLHM0-7g/s1600-h/oyster+bottles.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPnHE1kXlng-Q21jhuRPTW7RhNBzWhFoDs65btraMGXkJwLc4tXxKM4Iyf-XC1QhoVDdNVCxVGWgfNXxap7hyphenhyphenq-qPHbRV5xark9H6GXBwj2kKksqmXtz0MTY1VkxBZ7k4nB1veLHM0-7g/s200/oyster+bottles.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036215241765016562" border="0" /></a>these are the bottles they use to harvest oysters in the mangroves.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVnYMeOuWMAr9t8WgkegeO6p5uqyOhp5hNvWKZKta0t9KmJZuyHZuvC0GiqQ15ZVVn0eyadVkVDchIQezopl_is286bgSruAmbYfZqdLgqOZL7BtnQfIjn9qYg9TpNys_YfMdqWcfWPFs/s1600-h/snorkeling+scene.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVnYMeOuWMAr9t8WgkegeO6p5uqyOhp5hNvWKZKta0t9KmJZuyHZuvC0GiqQ15ZVVn0eyadVkVDchIQezopl_is286bgSruAmbYfZqdLgqOZL7BtnQfIjn9qYg9TpNys_YfMdqWcfWPFs/s200/snorkeling+scene.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036218505940161554" border="0" /></a>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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgNBFqjWUHPC5KPufLHfJgWcYwRH3RhKwDp1M6ivVUSVQLu4ooT22OULsU6JylKr2oqCoZ4-NJkF1p0qGJQ1pw3znwyTN4cc5V_6l_i64UGI3TT7bWkqkcLcQJweYESO-w_fERWSjyqA/s1600-h/shelving+II.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgNBFqjWUHPC5KPufLHfJgWcYwRH3RhKwDp1M6ivVUSVQLu4ooT22OULsU6JylKr2oqCoZ4-NJkF1p0qGJQ1pw3znwyTN4cc5V_6l_i64UGI3TT7bWkqkcLcQJweYESO-w_fERWSjyqA/s200/shelving+II.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040259638626993522" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6pZ9oaerNa8YUT1hc1pLxDcPeM4Yyq63bH2LzRfZdZBOORmiz9wtyE0DE5kRmQr8TXKzkyCdXy8gK-tJk4A9-YF4URsVWAIypzXx54vGjie0Ta9AdmcBQ1JMQMy6K-W3tsoyGiR2sng/s1600-h/charles,+mark,++mateus+II.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6pZ9oaerNa8YUT1hc1pLxDcPeM4Yyq63bH2LzRfZdZBOORmiz9wtyE0DE5kRmQr8TXKzkyCdXy8gK-tJk4A9-YF4URsVWAIypzXx54vGjie0Ta9AdmcBQ1JMQMy6K-W3tsoyGiR2sng/s200/charles,+mark,++mateus+II.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036224746527642658" border="0" /></a>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.<br /><br />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.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-32944435741323192342007-02-24T15:34:00.000-08:002007-08-17T17:41:06.351-07:00neptune day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbquLGmI1wsgd_USjeCIynxV1X3WJX9QG3NijOorinjha1LdwBc3XRz7OIVZ7iUMvfcY3mmmimRhZFdYNvG96PcN3jSXa-SvNverVD5vlO1PCyp2JK90RMZBgPc_NrmUXUy-5YJVdXu4M/s1600-h/DSC00274.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbquLGmI1wsgd_USjeCIynxV1X3WJX9QG3NijOorinjha1LdwBc3XRz7OIVZ7iUMvfcY3mmmimRhZFdYNvG96PcN3jSXa-SvNverVD5vlO1PCyp2JK90RMZBgPc_NrmUXUy-5YJVdXu4M/s200/DSC00274.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035253422493782802" /></a>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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-QUC74BV3uYv8t4X9U1Mu-CFjPZ8-Jr9CgXQnKGvephkrXgqZtapIpMWNprqnQ43dszxWTQCfUOjxWS7LZeKdzoHATA6qF4mldE03NiykTzWZvhd0ZgKuMg6OJJUlqZ3EtdpmQHnClwI/s1600-h/DSC00273.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-QUC74BV3uYv8t4X9U1Mu-CFjPZ8-Jr9CgXQnKGvephkrXgqZtapIpMWNprqnQ43dszxWTQCfUOjxWS7LZeKdzoHATA6qF4mldE03NiykTzWZvhd0ZgKuMg6OJJUlqZ3EtdpmQHnClwI/s200/DSC00273.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035249183361061634" /></a>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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXD-VoJDPtqgCFP3vOj1kSxAglbQZcAODf5FC9rVHeQkku31ayf6pWYP9h9NMltccexWY6-r6EFOd3Y1uFACWlk54rNwb0zxzOTLPnW0oamL8hLXfenQhQO3QzeSqn9xhk2f3DKitvvaw/s1600-h/DSC00275.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXD-VoJDPtqgCFP3vOj1kSxAglbQZcAODf5FC9rVHeQkku31ayf6pWYP9h9NMltccexWY6-r6EFOd3Y1uFACWlk54rNwb0zxzOTLPnW0oamL8hLXfenQhQO3QzeSqn9xhk2f3DKitvvaw/s200/DSC00275.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035256957251867442" /></a>lindsay (center), a library work study student, sporting her new do.<br /><br />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.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4798535439918025043.post-54903095184799079752007-02-22T08:58:00.000-08:002007-08-17T17:37:58.185-07:001002 places to see before you die<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHMVtRovlnYHDVWtWvb4ZbKsygXiyC47hhm_n3paAYGlz6xAW4r1LkeywKdxEOFIHX4NN0ZAtHjnIV8vbk7YQCCLGYsg_kw_wDuaeKtjqP_ubFMGRFLo-HVjBXIffe9z4KfFIPSEKaPk/s1600-h/signage.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHMVtRovlnYHDVWtWvb4ZbKsygXiyC47hhm_n3paAYGlz6xAW4r1LkeywKdxEOFIHX4NN0ZAtHjnIV8vbk7YQCCLGYsg_kw_wDuaeKtjqP_ubFMGRFLo-HVjBXIffe9z4KfFIPSEKaPk/s200/signage.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035246992927740658" /></a><br />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! <br /><br />my friend james gave me a copy of <span style="font-style:italic;">1000 places to see before you die</span>. 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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />i've been having an embarrassing amount of fun.Sojourner Librarianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09434617860426232760noreply@blogger.com0