SOUTH AFRICA

South Africa is my current obsession. It is gorgeous and exciting and offers something for everyone. This country is far more convenient that the previous two that we have visited, still maintaining a magnificent culture. The remnants of apartheid remain, supplying ample racism and separatism for an otherwise advanced society. South Africa’s Constitution, adopted in 1996, is one of the most liberal and accepting governing documents in the world. It illustrates their ill feeling toward any type of discrimination, including race, religion, or sexual orientation. However, their society and people do not live their life this way. Whites, blacks, and coloreds all have different jobs, live in different areas, and ultimately hold themselves to dissimilar standards and regards. In America, our culture and lifestyles change, to be followed by an updated law or ordinance. To contrast, South Africa has adopted a very progressive Constitution and is waiting for society to keep up. It is two opposite ways of thinking and each are working in their own way. Cape Town has every component of a contemporary, metropolitan city in which people can live and work in a complementary way. However, this is not the case. Whites live in the city. Blacks and coloreds live far from the center, many in townships where the quality of life is very subpar. There is no law that mandates or even recommends this separateness; it is merely how things have been done for many years. One-seventh of their population has HIV or AIDS and many are living on less than $2.50 a day. Despite all of the poverty and health issues, South Africa is by far the prettiest place that I’ve even seen. At Cape Point, the coast juts in and out, so that if you stand in one position, it appears that islands surround you. Cape Town is a must-see.

Day 1: The night before, we had planned to wake at 5am, in an attempt to catch the sunrise on the way into port. The Observation deck was blocked off because of heavy winds and choppy conditions so we sat in the teacher’s lounge, which overlooks the bow of the ship. Coming into Cape Town port was as beautiful as I had heard it would be. It looks as if the city is tightly squeezed between the water and the mountains, cramming a lot into a relatively small amount of space. We had breakfast, got ready, and waited for the boat to be cleared by customs. Upon disembarking, a group of about ten of us made our way to Mitchell’s Pub to kill time before my SAS- organized Faculty Directed Practicum (FDP). The area right outside of the ship was very different from Morocco and Ghana’s. The mall is immediately next to the ship, as well as a hotel and a variety of shops and restaurants. There is even a small amphitheatre and Ferris wheel within a five-minute walk. Little did I know that Mitchell’s would become such a staple in our short week. We ordered cocktails and I got Fish n’ Chips, which were better than any I had ever had. Our group discussed plans for our time in South Africa, ranging from four-day Safaris to lofty hiking goals, to tourist traps and more. We stayed at Mitchell’s for a while and returned to the ship to catch our FDP around noon. The FDP was a wine tasting trip that aimed at teaching us about wine production, management, and marketing. We took a bus to the wine country, called Stellenbosch, which put Napa to shame. The wineries included gardens and structures that looked like they were right off the most majestic of Hollywood sets. We went to two wineries, each of which are multi-generational and family owned and operated. At the first winery, we learned about the distribution strategies and managerial aspects. At the second winery, we had a tour of the building where the wine is actually made while learning more about the production. At both, we tasted a variety of their wines and brandy. I personally do not like either so I handed mine to friends whenever possible.  I’ve think that I’ve always subconsciously associated wine with maturity and so I kept trying it in an effort to enjoy it, but it never clicked so I gave up. At every winery, some friends bought bottles of wine and chugged them before the next one or before reaching the ship at the end of the day. Needless to say, I was babysitting to get those kids back on ship without being thrown in the ship’s security’s Drunk Tank. We got back and got ready to head to Mitchell’s. I had an extremely questionable burger and proceeded to see every SAS kid pile in the bar. We ended up staying there all night, returning to the ship for a few hours of sleep.

Day 2: I didn’t have anything planned for this day and most everyone I knew, including my roommate, left on a 2-day bungee jump and shark cage diving trip early in the morning. I woke up and wandered around the ship, hoping to find someone that I knew that had stayed behind. I ran into my friend Colleen and her two brothers and cousin that had flown down to Cape Town from the US to meet her. We walked around the immediate area, through a few markets, and finally to the Aquarium. The Aquarium was really fun, but pretty similar to an American one. It had different species of fish and animals, but wasn’t a thoroughly different experience. I still enjoyed it very much and we agreed that it was a perfect way to kill an hour. From there, we made our way to Spier, which is a little area in the middle of the winelands that has a large bird reserve, a cheetah reserve, and some really amazing restaurants. Talking with the taxi driver was one of my favorite experiences in South Africa. I sat in the front seat with him and it was a van so those that were in the back seats were pretty separated. It was a long drive so after a while our discussion became more and more candid. He told me how he had lived outside of Cape Town for his whole life, had never left his country or even been to Johannesburg. In addition, he had never hiked Table Mountain, which was very prominent in the city and a must-do for travelers (that I never made it to, unfortunately). I asked him where he lived and he drove us by his neighborhood, a township made of miniscule tin and steel houses. We discussed his views on race and why it was the way it was. He opened my mind to a lot of ideals and made me think about things in a brand new way. When he dropped us off, he thanked me for talking with him and said that when he gave white people rides, they never sat in front and never talked to him. He said that our discussion made him like Americans a lot more. You could tell that this man, Clint, an upstanding father of three who loved his wife, worked hard to make sure they always had food on the table. It was heartbreaking as I came to enjoy and respect him, realizing that he deserves a lot more in life but is stuck in the townships with almost no opportunity. In Spier, we started with the big bird reserve. It was laid out very well and displayed all of the birds that were native to South Africa, including huge vultures and many different types of owls. I even pet and held an owl! Afterwards, we went next door to the cheetah reserve where we looked at a bunch of them before surrendering and paying to have one-on-one time with them. We had to clean the bottom of our shoes and disinfect our hands before entering because, apparently, cheetahs have such weak immune systems. There are very specific rules and recommendations when interacting with cheetahs, in hopes of not becoming their next snack. You are supposed to only approach them from the back when they’re lying down so that they don’t get the idea that you’re threatening them. Also you are only supposed to press firmly when petting them, on their sides or back, with the direction of the fur so that they aren’t tickled and aggravated. While Colleen and I were petting the cheetah, named Phoenix, it stood up abruptly and turned, which was probably one of the scariest moments of my life. The trainer grabbed her chain and calmed her down, thankfully. Afterwards, we walked through the extensive gift shops and restaurants next door which were very fancy and unique. One of the restaurants, called Moyo, is set up so that every individual table is in its own tree house. We didn’t have time to eat there but I really wish we had. We came back, got ready, and had dinner at an Italian place, where I had calamari for the first time- and LOVED it. We then made our way to Mitchell’s, again.  At some point, I was convinced to go to a club on Long Street, a prominent street in the city that has all the nightlife. It was a mistake because most of my friends were still on the bungy jumping and cage diving trip and I was so tired. I finally convinced some people to get a cab with me and go home, where I slept for an hour or two.

Day 3: I woke up early and made my way to the bus for a SAS trip to Cape Point and Peninsula. I didn’t know anyone on it aside from my extended family mom but ended up making a few friends pretty quickly. We drove southeast along the coast, stopping to look at baboons and ostriches on the side of the road. Baboons are extremely aggressive animals and you’re supposed to keep quite a distance between them and NEVER have food out where they can see or smell it. Ostriches are a lot bigger than I expected and are the most prehistoric animals I’ve ever seen. A lot of their characteristics resemble dinosaurs, especially their feet, which are just one big claw. We went to the farthest South tip of Africa and then proceeded to the Cape Point where you could hike up a tall mountain and look out and see where the two oceans met. There were peninsulas all around, jutting out and creating mind-blowing scenery. From there, we drove to Boulders Beach where African penguins live. These penguins live in the sand and don’t need cold weather, like the ones in Antarctica do. They roam free and play in the water but definitely didn’t seem as active as I expected them to be. We then continued our drive and went to and seafood restaurant right on the beach where I again had calamari and loved it. We walked up the beach and went to little outside markets before the scenic drive home. That night, a big group of us went to a Thai/ sushi restaurant on the waterfront. It was great food and fun people but the restaurant wasn’t used to a table of fifteen so everything was a bit slow, including dealing with the check, which took about forty-five minutes. The dinner was worth it. Everyone was agreeing that South Africa was a magnificent place and that leaving would be hard. We went to Mitchell’s for a while before coming home for another early morning. There’s an American flag that hangs on the ceiling of Mitchell’s and all the past SASers had signed it. That night we all stood around with Sharpie’s and signed the flag- it was a right of passage that we all had looked forward to.

Day 4- SAFARI! I woke up early and got on the bus to the Aquila Reserve. I again didn’t know anyone who was going on this but made friends once we got there. We got in an open-air safari car and drove through the park, looking for the Big Five safari animals. We saw many Springboks, which look like small deer and are South Africa’s national animal. We also saw hippos, barely moving by the edge of the pond, sleeping all over each other. Every once in awhile we saw a little nose pop up from the surface of the water and we learned that hippos spend a majority of time underwater because of the heat and that they can hold their breath for six minutes. We saw more ostriches and a peacock. We also saw zebras, which are a lot shorter and stockier than I expected. There were really cute babies and a pregnant mommy. The rhinos were big and tough looking but our guide told us how their horns are sold for a lot of money so poachers have been sneaking into the reserve and killing the animals just for their horns. The elephants were HUGE and my favorite. There were two males and they seemed like they were very good friends. They kept eating dry brush that did not look appetizing to me in the slightest. At one point, one elephant came right up to our car, which was really cool. We then went to the lion area and saw six lions all lying around a stone structure. The biggest male was very protective and aware of our presence. He would not take his eyes off of the car and looked like he was ready to pounce at the drop of a hat. Afterwards, we went to a smaller enclosure that had a leopard, warthogs (Pumba!), mating crocodiles, and more lions. We went back to the resort building of Aquila and had the best meal that I’ve had in a long time. We made our way back to the ship where I found Lauren and got ready. Lauren and I went out to dinner to a restaurant on the waterfront called Caribou, which was famous for traditional and upscale African food. The bartender came over and taught her a lot about their wine and let her try some. I stuck with tea- which was SO good here. We got calamari to start, the newest staple in my diet followed by two recommended dishes that we shared. The first was a filet of ostrich and the second was chicken, doused in sundried tomatoes, pesto, and wrapped in ostrich. Both were out of this world amazing. We enjoyed dinner and stayed there a long time, making it to Mitchell’s around midnight. We had a few drinks and took cabs to Mercury, a club on Long Street. There were about 100 SAS kids there and just as many locals. This was my favorite night in South Africa- they played Blink 182 and Stacy’s Mom and a ton of throwbacks. We danced for hours and didn’t end up making it back until around 5 am.

Day 5: I was supposed to Shark Dive at 5:30 this morning but it didn’t work out because of the big swells. I was okay with that because I wouldn’t have gotten one minute of sleep if we had gone. So, after sleeping, I went with my friend Kylie and walked about the wharf, looking for something to do. We stopped at the tourist kiosks that sold skydiving, parasailing, shark diving, etc. trips. I wanted to skydive but Kylie didn’t want to so we ended up buying a helicopter ride! The price is not per person, but a total amount for each ride up and there are three seats in it so we invited our friend Tim on it… he is forever grateful. It was a half-hour flight and went all along the coast. It was definitely the best way to see this part of South Africa. The coastline is even more breathtaking from the sky. We even saw two sharks and a whale from above! After the helicopter trip, Kylie and I went to the mall to grocery shop and shop for clothes. I severely under packed so picking up a few items was essential. That night, we went to dinner with a big group at a sushi restaurant. It was right on the water and very nice, but I mistakenly ordered something that I didn’t really want so I stuck with blood orange mojitos (amazing)! We went to Mitchell’s for our last hurrah and SAS was out in force. We took over the bar and danced and sang karaoke all night. No one really wanted to leave to go to bigger clubs because Mitchell’s had become such a staple for us and we wanted to spend our last night there.  

Day 6: The next day I woke up thinking that I was going paragliding. However, Kylie had woken up much earlier and left to go shopping again so paragliding didn’t happen. I ran into my friends Alanna, Colby, and Kacie who I took a cab to the Long Street outside market with. We shopped for traditional trinkets, jewelry, and my favorite- the African kitchen items. We got lunch at a local café where I had an amazing Mexican burrito. I was a bit apprehensive because I didn’t even know South Africa had Mexican food but it was very good. We walked around for a while looking for hair salons because Kacie wanted to get dreads, but unfortunately we didn’t find one. We shopped at local boutiques, buying a few items by South African designers. Afterwards, we made our way back to the ship, stopping at Mitchell’s because I wanted to buy a sweatshirt from this port’s home base.

This blog post is not as detailed as Morocco and Ghana’s because I wanted to send it out soon and there is just too much to write. South Africa was so action-packed with so little sleep that I’m sure I’m missing a lot… the days all seem to run together. If you’re my friend on Facebook, I posted tons of pictures from Morocco, Ghana, and half of South Africa. I cannot wait to come back to this country, there is still so much that I want to do, including bungy jumping, shark diving, and hiking Table Mountain. The rich history, extent of activities, gorgeous landscape, and inevitable threat of criminal activity all lend hands to a society with an incredibly rich culture. I recommend visiting Cape Town to all people, in all walks of life as it has such a variety of experiences to offer. I just woke up from sleeping for a total of 13 hours and I still don’t feel quite caught up yet. We have 5 more days until Mauritius, where we only have one day. I’m going out on a catamaran to snorkel for the whole day. After that, we have 6 days before reaching India. I know that India is going to be an experience of a lifetime. I have a lot planned, all of which I can’t wait for. I’ll blog as soon as possible!

GHANA

When Americans speak about countries such as Ghana, after visiting or merely researching, it is how we cannot believe it’s really there. We cannot believe that so many people don’t have running water. We cannot possibly fathom how a relatively “well-off” citizen lives on fewer than three dollars a day. We say all this in disbelief that it exists; however, I have realized that it is instead an incredulity that it is in the same universe as the nation in which we are pampered. There are so many differences between first and third world countries, from continent to continent, and from one country to the next. It is immediately obvious how unfortunate many aspects of the lifestyles in Ghana are, but if you look hard enough, there are just as many factors that are more advanced than those of US citizens. I don’t know if it is just the culture, or that poverty and continuous drawbacks have made Ghanaians so appreciative and positive. Everyone smiles. They smile at each other, they smile at visitors, and they smile just to smile. They also wave- their need for human contact and mere recognition is extremely different than our culture’s. It is at times unnerving but nonetheless so impressive because they recognize the importance of umbuntu- everyone living together and sharing positive, loving energy. America is definitely a diverse melting pot but even when we see people that are clearly visiting from another country, we do not wave or go right up and say hello. In Ghana, it is custom to wave and smile and ask questions. Ghanaians also speak very highly of their culture, they love to explain their flag and the peaceful, happy, respectful nature of the country.

Day 1: Our port was in Tema, a town right outside of Accra. The port is a busy one, active with cargo and many people, which makes it dangerous. The regulations and safety precautions are minimal so having common sense walking to the entrance is crucial. Upon exiting, three friends and I got a taxi and bargained for a reasonable price to the hub and market of Accra. We wandered the streets, looking at all the carts of colorful jewelry and carved wood, searching for food that wouldn’t make us sick. The street merchants are good at what they do. They are extremely friendly, asking for your name and showing you around. Then, they seem to disappear, only returning a half hour later with a woven bracelet that says your name. They are extremely adamant that you buy it and anything else would be disrespectful. My first lesson in Ghana was to be slippery- to slide through the group and past people trying to hustle you. If you spend too long with anyone, they’ll expect something in return. There are many exceptions to this because talking to the locals is what is going to maximize your experience. Finding those that will not hassle you is key, so we did just that. There were two women with a little stand on the side of the road selling jewelry. Neither of them pulled on us or waved us over like we were a cab. They just smiled and waved. I liked their hard-to-get game and decided to play. Walking over, they just held out a hand and introduced each of themselves. We ended up staying and talking for a little while. There was a young boy and girl in the makeshift room behind the stand, both of whom were under the age of five. The boy was incredibly skinny and the girl look like she had a horrible cold. Heartbreaking. We bought jewelry from them and they tied a string of colorful beads around our hips for good luck. They gave us the real price, instead of doubling it for white tourists like most merchants do. So I gave them double, because they didn’t ask us for it or try and cheat us out of anything. We proceeded to lunch at a semi legitimate looking restaurant. After pounding Pepto Bismol, we realized that time was going to be the same here as in Morocco. The waitresses walked extremely slowly from table to table, stopping to chat and not taking our order for a very long time. This would not fly at the Beachcomber- let me tell you. We also went to La Pleasure Beach, a beautiful beach outside of Accra. It has little cafes on the sand with wooden tables to relax after a semi-stressful day. (Dad- it’s just like Playa Avellanas in Costa Rica). After a long day of haggling and bargaining, we made our way back to home sweet home on the ship in Tema. We showered and got ready to go out and see what Tema had to offer at nighttime. Most kids on the ship were going to a bar on the other side of Accra but we wanted to stay close to the ship because we had to be up super early for planned trips and the stories of the taxi drivers drinking from flasks as they drove scared us a little to much to count on getting a cab late at night. Immediately when leaving the ship, a local named Ben came up and helped us find a taxi. He bargained to get us a good price and took us everywhere we wanted to go. Those skeptical of Ben couldn’t figure out what his motive was but he ended up going with us every day in Ghana and never asking for anything. He just wanted to hang out with Americans and make sure we didn’t get ripped off. Anyways, that first night was very fun. There were about twenty Semester at Sea kids at the bar we went to, as well as locals. We learned that their country’s beer “Star beer” stood for “sitting, talking, and relaxing”, which seemed to be congruent with the country’s culture. We went dancing and had a lot of fun all night. Too much fun- that I paid for the entire next day.

Day 2: You haven’t experienced true pain and humiliation until you spend a four-hour bus ride on dirt roads infested with potholes, puking multiple times throughout the day in front of all your peers and teachers. Anyone who has ever been carsick and/or hungover knows what I’m talking about. I rallied and had a lot of fun in between the episodes of drama and disgust. I went on a SAS trip that went to the Cape Coast and saw the slave dungeons and castles. Years and years of social studies classes, learning about the slave trade and hardships that Africans had to go through, did not even remotely compare to what I learned and got out of this day. The dungeons were the size of about three or four of my freshman year dorm rooms- and housed one hundred men for months. In school, we are always taught about what happens to them when they reached the American Atlantic coast, and the ship conditions are touched on- but how they are captured and brought to the dungeons on the Western coast of Africa is never discussed. In my opinion, it looks like it was the worst here, before the journey even started. Even fathoming what that would have been like is extremely hard for me. The facts and figures are mind blowing but the actual feelings of what it must have been like don’t fully penetrate. Listening to a ten-minute talk inside each of the dungeons with one-fifth of the amount of people that once were held captive there was uncomfortable. It definitely put me in line. I had been aching and complaining all day, but the magnitude just didn’t even compare- and mine was self- inflicted. The Africans that told us about the history and what went on there discussed it with such a sense of truth and acceptance. In situations such as this, I think that it is easy to feel embarrassed as an American. However, they did not expect you to look at it like that. They approached it, in my opinion, correctly- that we were now all on the same page, all coming and grieving from the perspective that we’re all people and we all are horrified by what happened. We drove through small villages and saw neighborhoods and families of people whose lives are so different from ours. For some reason, there were a lot of times in Ghana that made me think about the same thing: I kept wondering why certain people are born into different circumstances. Everyone is born to different parents, in different countries, in different levels of poverty and lack thereof. Why are certain souls (or whatever you want to call it) given all the opportunities in the world while some starve before they reach the age of three? It’s a puzzling concept to me. I am not willing to accept that our entire lives are based on luck or coincidence. Our lunch was at a beautiful resort; the area was blocked off and looked like a wedding reception right out of magazine. We then headed back to the ship, escorted by police because we were clearly too good to sit through traffic. The general feeling of a lot of these organized trips was starting to get to me by now. I love how they’re organized and you see a lot of cultural things that you might not be able to if you tried to go about it on your own. However, they’re beyond pretentious. It probably would have been far more fun to pack lunches and walk the streets, talking with locals, then to have a pristine beachfront white tablecloth lunch with a snazzy buffet. And the police escort was hardly necessary. I would understand if it was for safety, but it was just to get us through traffic. As we passed through, they stopped all local cars so that we didn’t have to stop for lights, or heaven forbid, other cars. It’s such a phenomenon when Americans are in town, that we were even on the local news. Various taxi drivers as well as street merchants mentioned that everyone knew we were coming way ahead of time. All that day I said that I was going to stay on the ship, recover and go to bed early. That didn’t happen. We came home and had 45 minutes to eat and get ready. We took a taxi to La Palm Royal- a hotel right next to La Pleasure beach, where we had been before. A few friends of ours were splurging and got a huge villa with their own private beach and butler. A little extravagant for me but I was completely up for mooching off them. There was about forty SAS kids that just hung around at the bar and restaurant but it wasn’t exactly what my group was looking for. We can hangout and party with American kids any time back at home- but when are we going to be in Ghana again? So, with Ben’s help, we walked next door to La Pleasure beach where a huge Reggae festival was going on. It was packed with locals and set up to be a great night. Another thing about Ghana- most local women at bars do not have wholesome intentions. There are tons of prostitutes and if you try and innocently talk to them, their pimps will come ask you for money later. Beware! We headed back to the boat to get a few hours of sleep.

Day 3: My favorite day on Semester at Sea thus far- a SAS trip called “Mona Monkeys and Waterfalls”. I got on a bus and we started the trek towards the mountains. After a bumpy three hours, we stopped in a tiny village to start the hike. With a big group, whenever we reach the destination, there’s always a little lull where everyone stops and gets organized. People take pictures, use the restroom, and buy water bottles. If you know me at all, you know that I’m not the most patient of people. So I decided to skip this part and do a little on my own. If you know me, you also know that I’m nowhere near brave- so this was big. I left the group and walked into the little village to check it all out. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming and told me that no one usually stops to say hello- they just keep going to the trail. So, I just hung out and played with the kids for a while. No one had ever seen a camera before, let alone used one, so I let them take pictures of themselves and then turn it around and look at the product. They were extremely excited about this. I would lift the kids up and then spin in a circle until they laughed and screamed with joy. They started making a line and I just went through it, showing them how to high- five. Their mom asked me if I was married and when I replied in the negative, she just kept saying “Good mom, you would be good mom. Best mom” over and over. Five minutes later she made me promise not to leave and ran off, returning with her son. She introduced us and told me that I should marry him and take him back to America. He was great, but it was a short-lived relationship. I hugged everyone and made my way back to the group, who luckily had not left yet. We hiked up the trail, over footbridges through what was hands down the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen. There were centipedes and spiders galore but it was all so peaceful and majestic that the three-inch long spider didn’t even scare people too much. We made it to the waterfall and couldn’t believe it. It was huge, with a perfect pool at the bottom. There have already been so many sights such as this one that have made me think that everyone should be entitled to, and mandated to see them. One rule that we were all told upon arriving in Ghana: Do NOT swim in fresh water. You will probably get worms. They even showed us gruesome pictures of kids who did not heed their warnings and came back to the ship very ill. But come on- when are you going to swim in a waterfall in Ghana again? So… a few brave souls went for it. We changed and swam up to the fall, getting knocked over and slipping many times but just laughing and smiling the whole time. This experience was unlike anything I’ve ever done. I was completely aware at how dangerous it was and didn’t even care. It was totally outer body and thoroughly invigorating. We were aware that not very many people in the world could say that they have done this. I was lucky enough to have brought sandals in case my hiking shoes gave me blisters so I wore those in the waterfall in an effort to minimize contact with the wormy rocks. They flew off when we got close to the fall but magically floated and reappeared at shore. I will never forget this- ever- ESPECIALLY if I get tapeworm. We hiked back, soaking wet but smiling ear to ear. When we got back to the bus, I snuck off real quick to give a pen to one of the children I had met. I had heard that their favorite gifts are always pencils or pens and I had absolutely nothing else to give- except for the camera, which I definitely considered. The little girl was about seven and didn’t even know what a pen was. I wrote on my hand to show her and I have never seen anyone so amazed or happy. She shyly took it and ran to show her mom. Her mom thanked me over and over. Again, everything is relative. I lose pens frequently at school and don’t think twice about it but this cheap pen from Target was a monumental gift to them. We got back on our Indiana Jones bus and made our way to the monkey reserve. We got off and hiked through another village to a place where I thought we were going to see some monkeys. We saw a few. And then we saw five. And then ten. And then twenty. And then they were swinging from the branches to sit on our shoulders. Another rule SAS tells you: Do NOT touch monkeys. None of the monkeys are fully tamed and if they bite you, you are at a high risk for rabies. But c’mon- when will you hold a monkey again? The branches were swaying back and forth from their body weight as they leapt from one tree to the next, stopping to perch on our shoulders and arms. We were all given bananas and we held them out to the monkeys so they could eat them. They peeled them themselves- and quite politely. I was a little scared by the monkeys’ forwardness and didn’t feel too comfortable with them coming out of nowhere and making themselves at home on my arm but after awhile, I let a baby come sit on me and have a banana. (Mom- remember when you asked if the camels were cute? Camels are not cute. MONKEYS are cute.) We came back to the boat late that night and didn’t go out for the first time in a port. Most of the kids did but I stayed home with a friend that got food poisoning. I had no urge to go out- I had just had one of the best days of my lives and was more than content relaxing and going to bed while feeling this good.

Day 4: I was on self- proclaimed wakeup duty. I woke up early, ready to get the most out of our final day and most people were still sleeping… so I called the rooms and told them that the last bus before the afternoon was leaving in a half hour. We hustled and barely made it. We wandered the streets for a little while looking for an ATM and food. There was a restaurant that a girl had told me about the other day that had very local traditional food but that was also clean and wouldn’t make you sick. The combination is hard to come by, so we were on a mission. In getting there, we picked up two local guys who latched on in an effort to sell us bracelets. When we wouldn’t buy anything, they would shout “Fake Americans!”  Apparently most Americans spend a ton of money on trinkets after a little pressure. I had the name of the restaurant and was the one asking for directions and leading the way. Apparently, the Ghanaians had never experienced a female doing this, especially since our group of about ten was all guys, except for one other girl. They kept calling me Alpha Female, which turned into a lot of very inappropriate reasons why they love American women, etc. Let’s just say I have never been happier to be with so many guys. One friend told the two Ghanaians that he was my boyfriend and another said that he was my brother. They made it very clear that they were not allowed to communicate like that anymore. They didn’t go away but they did lay off a little bit. After a series of confused directions, we made it to the restaurant- Asanka Local. The menu was a little hard to navigate but I had heard that the most traditional dish in Ghana is Fufu. I asked what the most local way of preparing this dish was with groundnut soup and goat meat. So that’s what I got. Everyone else got chicken and rice- boring. I’m so glad that I got this because when I did, the locals all came over and taught me exactly how to eat it. It’s basically very spicy red soup with a huge ball of flavorless dough in the middle and two pieces of goat meat. The meat was way beyond my comfort zone and I didn’t have more than a bite of that. For the Fufu, you eat it with your hands, and specifically your thumb and index finger on your right hand. You pick off pieces of the dough from the side of the mound, towards the bottom, swirl it in the soup, and swallow it without chewing. I drank an entire large bottle of water because it was so spicy. By the end of the meal, most everyone had tried my dish. Also, I think that the locals respected us more for trying something that they had all the time. The two guys that had walked with us all the way to the restaurant took all of our leftovers, eating most of it and scooping the rest into a to-go bag. It looked like that had not eaten for days. He made me a bracelet, thanking me for showing Americans what Fufu was. I told him that I didn’t want a bracelet with just my name because that’s what everyone got, so he made one that says “Adwoa In Ghana”. Adwoa is my name in Ghana because of the day of the week I was born on- Monday. I found that a little funny because everyone’s “traditional” name in Ghana is the same as one-seventh of the rest of the population. Our group split up into two- half went to the market and half went to the hotel. I was a little disappointed in myself for going to the hotel but I knew I would spend too much money if I went to the market. I took a taxi with my friends Nick, Austin, & Willy to the La Palm hotel where we relaxed by the pool. The hotel pool is very fancy and Cabo-ish. The pool is circular with bridges and a swim-up bar. It wasn’t that busy so we were immediately approached and asked if we were from outside. The guys stuttered but I, from years of experience of hotel breaking and entering with my father, didn’t have a problem. I made up a room number and asked for towels. He apologized and brought us towels- I felt a little guilty… (but Dad, aren’t you proud?)  In the US, you need a wristband, an ID number, and about twenty other forms of identification to enter a hotel pool. I had taken advantage of how trusting they are here so I definitely did feel bad. We bought ridiculously expensive drinks to make up for it. We swam and talked about how fun Ghana had been for a few hours before heading back to the boat. When getting a taxi, we encountered the same problem that we had many times already. Taxis see your white skin and triple the price on the spot- it’s actually ridiculous. We waved a few on by when we heard what they were asking before finding a driver that one of the guys had been driven by the night before. We were so lucky to find him, and he didn’t rip us off too bad. We took a shortcut to avoid the traffic and went through some more villages, looking out the window, trying to take mental pictures of everything that was going on. We had never seen or imagined any of this merely days before and this might be the last time we see it again. It is so surreal to have experiences like this and I continue to be so grateful for them. We passed a huge party- it was about 4 pm and there were forty people from the ages of five to seventy-five dancing and singing. It looked like a lot of fun, but fairly out of place. We asked the driver what they were rejoicing about and he told us that it was a funeral. Someone had died and they were celebrating his life. This was a last great impression of Ghana, in my eyes. They were turning such a sad thing into something joyous. We told the driver what our funerals were like and he didn’t understand why- he believed that lives should be celebrated and he mentioned that when he passed, he wanted it to be a huge party. Take note: when I die (hopefully not from deadly worms or rabies), you all better be celebrating and partying because after this trip, this life is a damn good one.

BACK ON THE BOAT: NEPTUNE DAY!

Neptune Day is when we pass over the Equator. We knew that we were going to be passing over the 0 degrees line, but Ghana had been so crazy that it didn’t really occur to anyone that the day after boarding the ship was Neptune Day. Everyone was looking forward to sleeping in because this was the first non-port, non-class day to study and recover. Not so much… We were awoken by loud whistles and music at 8:00 am. We scurried up to the top deck by the pool for a ceremony that was clearly a big deal. The Captain (a very large, respected man) was wearing next-to-nothing and had painted his entire body green. The crew and staff were wearing toga-like getups and hats made of foil. There was a brief speech that consisted of us having to pay respect to the God called Neptune that apparently resided over the oceans and lived at the Equator. Afterwards, we stood in groups of four and got “fish guts” (that weren’t really fish guts) poured over us. Then, we jumped in the pool and climbed out. We had to bow to the King and Queen and kiss their rings, and then kiss a fish (that was very much real… and dead… and smelly). One out of every group was pushed into the pool and had to do the whole thing over again. Of course, I was the lucky one. Afterwards, the ritual we had all heard about began- the shaving of the heads. I’d say 80% of guys on this boat are now skinheads and 25 girls shaved their heads too! (I’ve worked on my mane far too long to get caught up in the moment and watch it drop off the side of a ship…) A few girls who previously had longer hair than I do and are now bald already look like they’re regretting it. There were a lot of tears. Afterwards, they turned the massive speakers up and we all danced for a few hours- students, teachers, deans, life-long learners- everyone was having so much fun.

If anyone’s reading this that knows someone in college looking to study abroad soon- DO THIS. It’s a money suck but it is hands down the best experience for someone our age. There’s nothing cooler to hear someone relive what they did in port or what they’re looking forward to doing in the next port. We talk about how lucky we are but I don’t even think that we fully understand. This ship and the ports and the students are all so amazing, that this blog will never do it justice. It’s only been two ports and I already know that travel is going to be much more important to me after this trip. The concept of saving up for clothes and cars is semi ridiculous to me now because I know that I’m going to be saving up for more experiential things like this.

Tonight I’m having dinner with my “extended family”. They randomly put together a group for you and mine is made up of four students and one lifelong learner- the students are all so different, which makes it awesome and our “Mom” is amazing. Three of her daughters went on this voyage a while ago and she’s always wanted to so she’s been trying to convince her husband for years. She finally just did it without him and is so happy she did- every time I see her, she is overjoyed and loving every minute. She hugs all of her “kids” whenever we run into each other and is constantly excited, as we all are. The energy on this ship is unreal and infectious. I have two tests and a presentation in the next two days in classes I have done zero reading for so today and tonight might actually have to be productive. OR I could go upstairs, read others’ journals, listen to stories, and look at pictures from all the villages, etc. Which do you think I’ll learn more from? Interesting, eh?

P.S. I think that I’ll have free internet in South Africa, so I’ll try to upload pictures and videos to facebook & my blog there.

MOROCCO

September 6, 2011

I had in my head that Morocco would be similar to Costa Rica or Mexico, adding a little couscous and subtracting the Spanish language. False. The night before landing, we secured our valuables because of the threats of turbulence and discussed plans as if tomorrow was Christmas. We had been on the ship for a week but the adventure was really starting in just a few short hours. The boat’s environment was completely different- we were nervous and beyond excited, feeling the adventurous cells in our bodies go through the maximum level of stimulated mitosis. I had naïve expectations centering on snake charmers, camels, and mint tea. My roommate Lauren and I set our alarm for 5 am, hoping to catch sunrise on our way into port. Rolling out of bed and making our way to the Observation deck, wrapped in Semester At Sea blankets and eyes sleepy but wide, we were greeted by about fifty kids who had the same idea. The area we came into was extremely industrial looking, and not very inviting. We had breakfast outside, discussing plans for the next four days. Some were travelling to Marrakech, some to Fez, and some were staying in Casablanca in an attempt for maximum immersion. It sounded like there were too many options- like no one could possibly do everything he or she wished to. I’ve heard from past SAS students that sleep is unrealistic and hard to come by while in port. That you can sleep while at sea. That you can sleep when you’re dead. When will you be in Morocco again?

That was the general theme of the past four days, and I’m sure for the next four months. When will you be here again? When will you have the chance to be with kids who all love to travel and have a good time? Some want to surf in every Port. Some want to visit all the historical places. And some just want to get drunk with a variety of cultural cocktails. Everyone has different plans and goals of how they want to spend the next four months but the common similarity is that we are so blessed and will never let an opportunity be passed up, especially one that may never present itself again.

Saturday, Day 1: We took a tour that oriented us with the town of Casablanca, giving us a general overview as well as a thorough visit of the Hassan II Mosque. A lot of my girl friends were on it, all dawning linen pants, scarves, and aviator sunglasses. It seems to be the outfit of any female Westerner who wants to be respectful but won’t wear anything unfashionable despite the local conservative religious norms. The markets were crowded with kittens running everywhere, skinned rabbits throughout, all smelling of bizarre spices and urine. The Mosque was, in my opinion, far more impressive than the Eiffel Tower. The current King’s father built it in an effort to increase and stabilize the country’s culture and religious beliefs. The exterior was intricately carved, the inside made of stones of every color. The Mosque fits a total of 100,000 people, men on the bottom floor and women filling the top balconies. There are public baths in the basement for washing before ceremonies that appear to have a lot of European influence. They are extravagant and practical- a common theme for the country. It is beautiful and grandeur, just like any all-white living room in the largest homes of Newport Beach that are never touched or used. However, it was also quite apparent that it was utilized for precious reasons. It was the best of both worlds, flawlessly speaking to all visitors of the values that this country has, that beauty and operations can coincide flawlessly.  We continued on through the town, opting to be dropped off at the central market instead of returning to the ship. We had lunch at a local café with a group of SASers that we ran into- which isn’t hard, considering we all stick out like sore thumbs. FYI- if you’re ever in Morocco, DRINK MINT TEA. It’s amazing and so addicting. There are four boys on the ship who brought walkie talkies to use in place of cell phones while onboard as well as in port. However, they’re usually together so they gave one to us so we could communicate for the day in an effort to meet up and join forces after us girls did the tour. I gave them specific directions to our café, explaining that it’s called Glacier Café. After a series of excruciating communication errors, they appeared, aggravated, explaining that every café is called “Glacier Café”, which is still beyond any of our comprehension. We went through the market, feeling like mice in one large maze, except that there was no beginning nor end, and definitely no correct way to go. We bargained and attempted to converse with locals, enjoying the variety of knockoffs and culturally representative trinkets. As we were walking out of the market, one of the boys we were with was pick pocketed. The Moroccan only took his bottle of Advil, but the experience was quite frightening because the other locals around us went after the desperate man. Immediately following, we had a near collision with a motorcycle and made our way back to the boat. We got ready to hit the town and went to dinner at Rick’s Café, made famous by the classic movie Casablanca. It was much fancier that we expected, but nonetheless we enjoyed the experience. The place was overrun by excited 20-year-olds trying to come up with a plan, all mainly concerned with what club was breaking the rules and serving alcohol right after Ramadan. We made our way to the beachfront area that was more touristy and supposedly had the best nightlife. On the way, our taxi cab was in a car accident. No one was hurt, but it was becoming clearer as more of these situations presented themselves, that we needed to really prioritize the issue of safety. Upon arriving, we met up with what seemed to be every person I had ever met on the ship. Lesson #1: Never travel in huge groups. There were at least 30 of us, all indecisive and disorganized. It made for quite a frustrating night, traveling to and fro, never sticking one plan out. I met a lot of people and got a great sense of the culture, but it was definitely an experience. Very late that night, we took a taxi back to the ship and packed for the next morning. Hours of sleep on Night 1= 2.

Day 2: We woke up at 4:45, rolling out of bed and walking through the port with our bags to meet the buses at the entrance that were going to take us to Marrakech and our two-day camel trek. Little did we know what we had in store. We traveled in a school bus-type vehicle over the Atlas mountains, with about a foot between our tires and the side of the cliff that would inevitably lead to all of our demises. Our understanding was that it was a three-hour bus ride to Marrakech, where we would have lunch. Then, outside of Marrakech, we would meet the camels and trek to the camp for the rest of the day and spend the night. Apparently “outside of Marrakech” is a relative term. By estimation, we should have been at the camp by noon. We arrived at 8:30 pm. Our tour guides spoke minimal English and I became less and less trusting as “little longer” turned into two hours. By the time it was dark, we were worried. There were two buses, totaling ninety kids so the pure amount of participants calmed most worries. Still, most were nervous and talking quietly about how scared they were, within their groups of friends. A few tears started and I had a bad feeling in my gut. We had absolutely no idea about where we were and we were getting no information. No one seemed to step up so I started walking back and forth to the front of the bus in an effort to speak with the guide and driver. I then read the few signs that were on the side of the road, and called SAS to ask for advice. I told her where we were and she said that we were way too far, on the border of Morocco and Algeria in the middle of the Sahara. It’s amazing how possible it is for a group of 90 people to feel so helpless. All the talks of our concerned parents, especially those of girls, were coming back and starting to seem more plausible. One girl wanted to call the US Consulate but that seemed to be jumping the gun a bit. My general opinion was that I didn’t want to be stupid about it. I wanted to avoid feeling like an idiot by blindly entering into a potentially dangerous situation without doing anything about it.

We finally made it to the place on the side of the road where there were Moroccans in full garb, leading packs of over one hundred camels. We made it! And they didn’t bag our heads and throw us into a van. Trying to seem adventurous and less like scaredy cats, we mounted camels and made our way in the pitch black over the sand dunes. Camels are very uncomfortable to ride but I like them a lot more than horses. They’re calmer and smaller. I was almost- ALMOST- glad that we did the trek at night because it was so gorgeous. I have never seen a sky like the one in the Sahara desert that night. You could barely see black because there were so many stars- they all looked so close and connected. We made our way to a camp full of tents, a firepit, and fairly developed restrooms. There was nothing for hours around this place, it seemed to be a dream. We picked a tent- I requested that boys be in our tent and I slept in the middle, away from the door. The plumbing and smiles of the camel herders were not enough to completely convince me of the legitimacy of this situation. We set up camp, had a traditional dinner, and hiked up a huge sand dune. My blacklight flashlight was a huge hit because apparently that is the way to look for Scorpions. …And I thought I was buying it to wave at clubs. Go figure. We laid back and reflected on the stressful day, acknowledging that there wasn’t one location in the entire world we would rather be. It was crystal clear and you could see tons of constellations. We stayed up for most of the night, getting a few hours of sleep before waking up at 6 to have breakfast and ride the camels to get back to the bus. Hours of sleep on Night 2= 2.5.

Day 3: We had a very clear mission: get to Marrakesh. FAST. We didn’t want to stop at all. Ration out the Cliff bars. Pee in your water bottle. We were wasting as little time as possible in that damn bus. We got to Marrakesh and split up in an effort to find hotels. We found a nice hotel, opposed to a hostel, because Lauren and I figured the safety and peace of mind after that past 48 hours was worth the extra Dirhams. Hotel rooms were full so we splurged and got the penthouse apartment at a very nice hotel. It only cost $60 per person- a little bit different than America. We got dressed, looked for a restaurant with palatable food, realistic prices, and alcohol. This combination is extremely hard to come by in North Africa, apparently. We ate and made our way to Pasha- the biggest club in the continent of Africa. It is a whole complex, with separated different clubs, bars, and lounges. Unfortunately, it was all closed down except one small part so we enjoyed the setting, walked around, and moved on to meet a big group of friends. The rest of the night was spent wandering through Marrakech, discussing how we all were completely fooled by our monstrosity of a bus tour, and bar hopping. We had a 7am train to catch the next morning but again, you can sleep when you’re dead. Hours of sleep on Night 3=1.

Day 4= We took the 3.5 hour train back to Casablanca at 7am. More unsolicited advice: if you ever take a train in Morocco: pay the extra $5 for First Class. It is the only place where you get a seat and have air conditioning! The less informed travelers did not enjoy their sauna in the slightest. I was a little disappointed that we didn’t have more daytime in Marrakech because I have heard great things about the markets and atmosphere of the city. Returning to the ship, I had never been dirtier or sleepier. Lauren convinced me to rally and we trekked out again through Casablanca to find wireless Internet, a post office, and hair oil. We didn’t find the first two, and later found that the oil we bought is very different than what we buy at home. We did, though, find a cart filled with baby chicks that were dyed different colors. It was incredibly sad but no amount of PETA commercials can make you think about anything other than how cute they are. We made our way back to the boat, showered and ate- both of which I have never been more appreciative. The stories told at dinner were mind blowing- it seems like we weren’t the only group that ran into some bad luck. Morocco was a complete culture shock. Some parts were a complete nightmare but I am so thankful that we did this. It was pretty empowering to take charge and be self-sufficient in an environment such as this.

We have six days of class until GHANA. I’m planning on sleeping, eating well, and taking vitamins. Classes are all very interesting but , honestly, not a huge priority of mine. My goal is to not stress about grades, keeping this experience in perspective. The pool is probably where I’ll be at during breaks tomorrow. Our room, 3048, is very social and we have visitors a lot. 3048 has a big sign on it that reads “Welcome to the Scottsdale Sandwich” because the rooms on either side of ours have someone from Scottsdale, Arizona. I love the people here and already cannot believe that I can’t take them all back to Oregon with me. I am only called “Anna” by my teachers- outside of class I’m Newps (for obvious reasons), Closet (because apparently I seem naïve and nervous & my peers are convinced that by the end of this I will be more adventurous and crazy), Mama (again, for obvious reasons), and Monkey (?). My fanny pack is a hit and I always have Pepto Bismol on me, which makes for instant, very grateful friends. Tonight is the first night I will get a full nights sleep and that I will sleep without my money belt and passport wrapped tightly around me and I cannot wait. The boat is rocking like never before but I’m too tired to even notice. I’ll blog after Ghana, in about a week and a half- or maybe two weeks? I have no idea- time is irrelevant here. Sweet dreams from the Western African coast!