China

We’re leaving Shanghai behind us. From our vantage on the river it looked like a recently abandoned ghost city with the greenery still thriving. We’ve been slipping down the river- the Yangtze River, no less! - for over an hour passing docks, shipyards, mountainous stacks of containers, oil tankers, enormous ships for cargo, grain, coal, sand, one after another after another. Occasional welding sparks, laundry hanging to dry on the decks. A fellow LLL said at lunch she’s glad she won’t have to witness what lies ahead for our children and their children in this globalization process. I just pray that all over the world the young people will see that they MUST cooperate with each other, that there must be efforts made to equalize the wealth, that the beauty of this earth must somehow be preserved. It makes me so sad to think of all the people who never get to eat a tomato from their own back yard, or sit in tranquility on an empty beach or hike in the places of worship that are the earth’s forests.

“Elizabeth Ann, go down to Mr. Brock’s store down at the end of the alley tell him you need a package of Velveeta Cheese and tell him to charge it to Mrs. Williams.”

Five or six years old and Elizabeth Ann was thrilled to go to the store for her Grandma and to say ”Charge it”. Her grandma loved this new, soft orange cheese in its yellow box. It was so much better than the old fashioned kind her momma made. Progress.

Will we ever get back to the ocean? It’s almost 4 pm: two hours of river and port and shipbuilding and boats and barges and cranes and tankers and…and…and. No lights to be seen anywhere on this dreary afternoon. The apartment buildings have no lights showing…or the office buildings or the cabs or whatever you call the living quarters of the barges. This is a Communist country; maybe the lights can’t be turned on until a certain time of day.

Where is the garbage? How do they deal with sewage? Is there such a thing as leisure for the people who live here? Population statistics are staggering. To move from one town to another a person must have the permission of the government. The government owns the land. The government owns everything ...or does it. What's all this capitalism? What about all the companies and fancy retail stores and up scale malls?

I wish I had the vocabulary and an understanding of economics, commerce and trade and foreign relations and politics and international business to be able to describe this experience…to access what it means when people say China will be the next super power.

The hulls of some of these barges look as though they were hand carved. Most of the others are new and shining.

What is it like inland from all these seaports we’re visiting? How bad or good is life for all those people? It is impossible to even imagine what lies ahead for Greg and Emily, Lindsey, Grace, Annabel, Cole, Elle, Leo, Luca and Elia and the new little one; for Michael and Michelle and Matt and Brian and Taylor, for Ben and Loren and Connor; for Sean and Joey and Sarah and Kelly Ann and Devon and Delaney. Goodness. God, please guide them and protect them so they can help to make this world a better place.

I went up to the Lounge for a little while. Lots of folks standing around as we sailed down the river, leaving China behind us. I chatted with Forest for a while about his trip to Beijing and the Great Wall where it was icy and freezing. I felt an arm around my back giving me a little squeeze. It was another LLL just returned from some other big trip to the north. That little hug felt so good. Made me miss John.

What’s the difference between mourning, and self pity? Sadness and self-pity, Loneliness and self pity?

I moved the little round glass top table over near the balcony door so I can type and look out at the watery world going by. I have to remember when looking for a place to live to have a room with a window where I can set up my desk so I can type and look out at something beautiful. Things are gradually becoming more beautiful here. The tall buildings are gone and the cranes. There’s the shell of an old one from another era. The sky is low, the land appears undisturbed – with trees and green bushes near the riverbank – but off in the misty distance: more scattered buildings.

I just noticed that my little table and the two chairs on my balcony are tied down again. I wonder how rough the sea will be ahead? Our departure from Shanghai yesterday was delayed almost 24 hours because of weather between here and Japan. Obama was in Shanghai yesterday. Too bad he couldn’t have just paid us a little visit. Security. Schedule. There were people who were convinced that our delayed departure had nothing to do with weather and that the president was in fact going to surprise us. But then the naysayers pontificated that if he were coming aboard the Secret Service would have been crawling all over this ship way back in Halifax. Besides he couldn’t do it because it would be a slap in the face to the Chinese. Oh nuts, but wouldn’t it have been fun? We’re slowing down right this minute. Maybe it’s not too late and he’ll come in a helicopter or a speed- boat and say hi to all of us. Hot damn that would be GREAT!! Come on Barak!!!!! Surprise us! Poor presidents: robbed of spontenaiety, poor guys.

The river widens and the shore looks like forest…but… yet again, there in the distance in the mist: more buildings. Oh well. The waves pick up. We're on our way to Japan!

Vietnam

GOOD MORNIN' VIET-NAAAMMMM!

I thought I'd post a wee little blog entry just to let you all know where I am: cruising up the Saigon River towards Ho Chi Minh City and I cannot believe it! over the last few days it feels as though I've begun to wake up and am beginning to realize the magnitude of what it means to GO AROUND THE WORLD ...at least for a 73 year old woman who can remember her father cranking a car to turn it on!

That's about it...just wanted to connect. Hope you all are well. More in a few days. Love, Liz xo

Vietnam

India

October 25, 2009 Sunday

This city, Chennai, India, should be called Papillon City. Can anyone tell me why? Who’s taking French? New Orleans girls?

Last week we passed the half way mark on our voyage. Before I know it, we will be sailing into San Diego! So, I’m trying to be in the moment and take full advantage of being here and paying close attention to everything around me. Right now I’m sitting in the deck 7 Lounge, a large circular room with a dance floor in the center, chairs and cocktail tables all around and large windows ¾ of the way around the perimeter. The bar behind me completes the circle. Outside deckhands in white jump suits are working with hoses and brushes and brooms and mops. One of the guys shook out a t-shirt after wetting it thoroughly with the hose. I thought he was going to put the t-shirt on but no, he only pulled it onto his head and then pulled the neck opening down to his eyes and then he draped the rest of the shirt around his neck and shoulders and tied the sleeves at the back of his head. Voila, a masque or a hood! He put on his hat and his sunglasses and went back to work. It’s very, very hot and humid here so I imagine the shirt serves a couple of purposes: sun protection, air filter and cooling.

There are lots of ships around, some way out past the breakwater, waiting to unload cargo. Nearby are cranes and more cranes and port buildings, offices etc, tired looking with dirty streaks graying their white walls and smudging the blue trim. There’s a large parking lot where we board the buses for our various field trips. Beyond the port is a skyline (nothing very tall) of all kinds of architectural shapes from modern and boxy to ornate brick with domes and stately Victorian structures, all softened here and there by trees.

“India is so filthy.” That’s one of the things I’ve always heard. Clearly Chennai needs a good sweeping and a bath. Yes it’s dirty. Yes there are places where the smells are pretty bad. Traffic is crazy. To expect the Indian immigrant cab drivers in New York to stop honking their horns would be like asking them to cut off their right hand. It’s heart wrenching to see the poor people and to see their shacks and to have a young mother with a baby on her hip beg so she can get something to eat. It’s disgusting to come back to the ship, to take off your shoes and socks and see the black dirt on your skin above the sock line. The heat and humidity are oppressive and the pollution makes it difficult to breathe. But what good would it do for me to expound any further on all that? The thing for me to do is find a way, a small way to make a contribution where I can and to encourage others to do the same. If only we could solve the gargantuan problems of the world! Well guess what? The kids on this ship…so many of them that I’ve talked to…are positive and are not afraid for the future. I ask them that very question: “Are you afraid? There’s so much for your generation to take on!” And they tell me no, they’re not afraid. (OK, cynics, kids can be naïve. We were.) I’ve asked some Indians I’ve met about the caste system and they tell me that it’s illegal now and not what it was in the past. So the clichés come out of the woodwork when I think about some of these huge challenges that face the world and I have to remember that Rome wasn’t built in a day etc., etc. That’s true for world issues and for personal issues. That’s the best I can do for the moment. If we do our own work we’ll be better equipped to do the work of the world.

Stop it, Liz. Enough.

Friday, the day we arrived I went to a reception at a women’s university where they were celebrating United Nations of Students and Travelers – something or other. We could hear the music before we exited the bus and
were greeted at the gates by musicians and dancers. The dancers wore very colorful, ornate costumes and lots of exotic makeup: one was a horse, one a chicken and one a gorgeous peacock with huge tail feathers. Several were on short stilts. They were dancing all around us as we entered the grounds and escorted us to the auditorium. Once inside I found myself sitting next to an American, a nice looking young guy casually dressed. “So, are you a journalist?”, I asked. “No, I’m the Counsel General from the States.”, he replied. “Oh my Lord, I’m sitting next to a dignitary! What shall I call you, sir?” “Oh how about ‘Andy’?” “Not ‘your majesty’or something?” “No, Andy will be fine.” I give thanks to Barney Williams for bestowing on me the gene that allows me to occasionally make people laugh.
Once all the other dignitaries – very serious looking Indian gentlemen dressed in suits and ties or khaki safari outfits, a few in those Indian dresses the men wear – filed in and took their seats in the front row (to my right, ahem) we were treated to an hour of entertainment. Five or six different groups of students gave dance performances to music that ranged from traditional Indian to more modern, even hip-hop kinds of music. At the end the MC announced that now the Americans would perform. What??? This was news to the Americans, but Terrence, a very popular young man saved the day. He happened to have music on a thumb drive with him and, with only a moment’s hesitation, he moved forward, took the stage and started to dance, solo! In a flash and one-by-one other students joined him and then some of the Indian dancers returned to the stage. Of course the place went wild. It was wonderful.

Some of us had another field trip in the afternoon so had to leave during the lull between the dances and the speeches – a major stroke of luck since some of the speeches were interminable we were told later.

A bus took us back to the ship for lunch and another bus then took us to an orphanage. Not the Mother Theresa orphanage – that field trip was full – but another that was, well, indescribably sad and yet full of the joy of all those smiling, laughing, delighted, delightful children. They were SO HAPPY to see us, some running down the drive towards us, grabbing our hands, others waving shyly at us from second floor windows. I chose this trip over the one to the orphanage for disabled children. It seemed that would be a little more than I could take. The kids tugged at us, held our hands, patted us, guided us to come upstairs to see where they sleep: a large room with aluminum trunks and other items on shelves – small stacks of books, rolled up grass mats. There was a single metal bed frame in the middle of the floor with a pillow and light quilt on it – for the…what would you call her, the person who stays with the kids at night? She gets the bed; the kids get to roll out their grass mats. I had so many questions but there was no one who spoke enough English for us to have a conversation.

The little kids all had very short hair – girls and boys alike. The girls all wore matching or similar little cotton dresses and the boys madras plaid shirts – all made by hand…you could see the stitches. The older girls had beautiful long black hair in braids or ponytails and wore saris. They all appeared to be fairly clean – their clothes, their hair but all were bare footed so their feet were grimy. Their skin is dark, one little girl in particular, had very dark skin and a dazzling smile. They vied for attention but I saw no squabbles. Our cameras were their big fascination. They LOVED seeing pictures of themselves and they loved it if you let them take pictures of you. They took us to their little playground. I went on the swing. I played ball with them. A couple of our boys were throwing balls way, way up in the sky, the little kids scrambling to catch them. Such simple fun. There was no pushing or pulling, no fussing amongst them. This I thought was remarkable. They were just kids, in so many ways, the same as kids anywhere. We walked down a lane to visit the older boys …maybe from age 11 to 18. We never saw any infants but the toddlers came to the playground after their naps and were adorable. You look at those huge dark eyes and make up stories about their little lives. At least they were here and were cared for rather than living along the side of the filthy road next to railroad tracks and piles of garbage.

This was an indescribable experience. The faces of several individuals will always remain in my memory, especially Jessica’s – a thirteen year old leader type in her best white sari who was beautiful, bossy, bold as brass. She knew I had her number and we laughed a lot together.

After the orphans performed some songs for us, a bunch of us got up and did the Hokey Pokey and a couple of other songs. Then it was time to board the bus and return to the ship and that was our trip to the orphanage. What can one say? Does one weep? One tries to be grateful.

Yesterday I went to Spencer Plaza., one of the ‘upscale’ shopping plazas. My taxi driver left me at the end of an alley with hundreds of motor scooters parked along the fence. We had agreed that I would pay him 500 rupees when he picked me up and return me to the ship two and a half hours later…that’s less than $10.00 As I walked towards the entrance several dragon flies came fluttering overhead. Aunt Kathy? Carolyn? G’ma Lucy? Saying,” Go ahead, you’ll be able to finish your shopping in this mall. Just keep walking, follow your nose. We’ll lead you to the store.” And they did! I got:________ and __________and__________. Nope, you'll have to wait til Christmas. It was fun sitting in one of the shops chatting with Hamza, a lovely 22 year old young man who, with his sister, inherited the business from their father 6 years ago. This kid’s English was great. He travels to Germany every year on sales trips. He’s originally from Kashmir where he has several workshops where all the embroidery is done by hand! Amazing.

Spencer Plaza reminded me a lot of New York subway stations as they were years ago…all grimy and crowded… but worse. There was an escalator that seemed out of place. Everything just felt grimy and yet is was bustling on a Sunday afternoon. The contrasts here are indescribable. I guess you’ve got to come see for yourselves. You’re shocked at all the terrible cruelties you see and want to scream; and yet, the people are so beautiful and those I’ve met have been so gracious and welcoming. Chennai is the 3rd or 4th largest city in India with 7 million people. That is mind boggling! Our sensibilities say, “Why the hell don’t they clean this place up?” We Americans simply have no idea of what the whole picture is. I’m simply trying to take in as much as I can.

October 27, 2009 Tuesday

Yesterday I ditched a field trip I was supposed to go on and I’m glad I did because reports were that all kinds of things went wrong – mainly transportation things. People were exhausted when they returned to the shop. Good for me. I wrote blog, did some laundry, read my book, took a nap, read my book some more, enjoyed visiting with some of the students and went to bed early. No Chennai and that was a relief.

But today I went on another field trip to an engineering college. It was OK. We listened to some speeches went on little campus tours with Indian students, enjoyed a delicious lunch which we ate with the fingers of our right hands…the food having been served by students who dished it out onto banana leaves the size of large place mats. I have to confess I didn’t love eating with my fingers. It’s sloppy and let’s face it: it seems you can’t really get your hands clean in this city. I am NOT known to be a clean freak, but Chennai, India? I think I’ve had my first regret of this voyage: that I didn’t know to go to Pondicherry (or Karaikal), an old French colonial city not far from here that is reportedly lovely. I certainly don’t want to judge India on the basis of my miniscule introduction to it. The contrasts, the sensory challenges are too numerous to mention. Suffice it to say I’d like to give India another chance and I have no regrets for having missed the trip to the Taj. Reports are that it was a very tough trip.


The ship was so quiet this week with most of the kids and adults off on overnight trips. But the buzz began last night as some of the kids returned and tonight at dinner, the place was jumping. Friends have been made, we all know the routine, the ship is home sweet home, and everyone was happy to be back again with ‘family’. It’s simply wonderful.

I just felt a little tremor ripple through the ship and the light just dimmed. I guess they’ve started the engines and that the pilot is aboard. So off we’ll be going again, headed for Vietnam.

OMG this is all so awesome, like, really awesome, dude! Lol and all that stuff.

October 18, 2009

A little more - October 18, 2009

South Africa - Kruger Safari & Mauritius

So I went to visit a township. On the drive there, we passed miles – yes, miles! – of rows of single garage-sized dwellings made of tin or scrap wood or cinderblocks with corrugated tin roofs that had big stones or cinderblocks on them to hold the roofs down in the wind. Do I exaggerate when I say “miles”? I don’t think so. From one end to the other, a township could easily stretch out three or four miles. Driving past the townships I realized that I had seen them before. They look exactly as they do in news footage, even down to the laundry hanging on fences and the outhouses and the women walking along carrying babies or bundles on their backs, wearing colorful long skirts and mismatched blouses and ‘towels’ (fabric wrapped around their heads turban style). In some places it seemed the shacks went on for as far as the eye could see. It was astounding, especially if the road drew nearer and you could see the scene in more detail. People actually live here! I thought to myself. Thousands of people!

We made several stops in a very large township that afternoon. The first was at a community center about the size of a small classroom where tables full of craft items were displayed. The people were very sweet, welcoming, not pushy. Also, there were marimbas! We heard them before we saw them. Two young men were playing and I was thrilled. They were laughing and showing off, especially the one playing the lead marimba. With barely any encouragement, he went crazy with his virtuosity, playing intricate patterns very rapidly. It was wonderful…such beautiful, joyous music. Second stop was a center that helps women with HIV-AIDS, a major problem in South Africa. We were able to watch women working on looms making rugs and table runners and other items. I had spent all my Rands and the shop wasn’t set up for credit cards so I was disappointed not to be able to buy anything. At another stop we visited Vickie’s B&B, a two story structure that was somewhat larger and more substantial than the shacks. You can Google Vickie’s. We milled around for a while, chatting with some of the people, the students especially enjoying all the little kids that gathered around us. They love having their pictures taken, but what they really love is TAKING pictures. Such magic to see themselves instantly on the screens. Looking around, I noticed that though there was this terrible situation of shanties and outhouses, I didn’t get the impression of filth or of degradation. Maybe it was my rose colored glasses. We had seen sections of new housing – rows of very small cinderblock houses the size of a single car garage with red tile roofs. All had outhouses, however and electricity hadn’t yet been brought in. I wonder how many of our students realized that the little closet in the yard of every house was actually an outhouse and that there IS NO running water in these people’s homes. I wish I knew the details of how this housing is being made available; by the government, I think, but under what circumstances, I don’t know. At least some people are getting out of the tin shacks. The political situation is surely very complicated and far from completely stable. I wish I understood more about it. I wish I knew more about exactly what apartheid meant to the people. I know they suffered terrible cruelties at the hands of the government, the police, the system and that it all goes back centuries. I was talking to our bus driver. He was a Muslim whose people had come from … nuts! CRS sets in and I can’t remember where this guy’s people were from. Anyway he was very nice, telling me about a singing group he belongs to. He played a DVD showing his group (there was a TV on the bus): all men, singing a capella, familiar tunes to which they added their own lyrics. It was neat. They wore costumes and sang for various festivals, parades and celebrations. He asked me how much it cost for a student to go on Semester at Sea and, when I told him, he said most people he knows won’t make that much money in their entire lives.

I can’t help it but there’s a phrase – from the Bible, I believe, “from those to whom much has been given, much is expected”. In general I’m getting the sense that the students on board are, for the most part, great kids, bright, compassionate, understanding and wanting to contribute. I hope they will.

So many people agreed that they would love to spend more time in South Africa. From the little I saw, it is a beautiful country. Our approach to Cape Town was spectacular and thrilling with the sun rising, Table Mountain in the background and the city nestled at the foot of the mountain and curling around the backside of it.
The harbor, the port where we docked is beautiful, clean, modern with restaurants, shops, music, promenades, coffee shops and a big mall. It had the atmosphere of an upscale shopping center in the States. I guess lots of places in the world have that atmosphere these days. It’s so different from when we were in Europe during the early fifties. Everything then was strange and old and so…different! Grandma and Grandpa somehow made it all very exciting for us. Now when you travel, you see the US at every turn, it seems. Well… I exaggerate. But something in me is disappointed when I see attempts to replicate so many of the commercial aspects of the US. Mac Donald’s on the Champs Elysees is nothing short of mortal sin in my book! Git with it, lady! This is the year 2009 and the US isn’t the only modern country in the world! This is just a quirk of old age, I suppose. Something in me wants every place we visit to be somehow quaint and ‘other’.

Our safari at Kruger National Park was wonderful. We had a two hour flight then an hour drive to the hotel … it looked like something in a movie with round buildings and thatched roofs. It was understated and not too fancy, with primitive African design evident in the décor: paintings, fabrics, furniture, lots of basketry. I love that look so felt very much at home. There was a pool but no time to spend in it and there was a golf course which I thought might take away from the atmosphere but it was OK. So we checked in, dropped our things in our rooms and took off for our first drive in the bush! Can you believe it???

Our guide, Doctor, was great. We had a lot of fun with him and he found some good animals for us to photograph: elephants, gorillas, tons of impalas, zebras, giraffes, crocodiles, beautiful birds, wildebeests, water buffalo, cheetahs. It was amazing to have the safari vehicle – what do you call them? – pull off to the side of the road and to peer into the bush and all of a sudden to be able to spot some animal or other…right there! …well, not too far away just munching away on the bushes or grass or tugging at leaves high up in a tree. You should have seen some of the trees that were lying on the ground with greenery still on them. Doctor told us that the elephants just push the trees over so they and their babies can get to the leaves more easily. Also we saw trees with patches of bark scraped off them. The elephants scratch their itches on the tree bark! Oh I almost forgot the rhinos. We didn’t see them until the third day but there were signs of them all over the place. In fact there were signs of all the animals all over the place. It was amazing the amount of ‘signs’ that were there. Anyway back to the rhinos (reenos, as Doctor pronounced it). They are territorial, VERY territorial! They mark their territory with very large piles of doo-doo and then, with their hind legs they spread it all around and create a hole in the ground about as big around as a bicycle tire and as deep as an end table. They do this all around the perimeter of their territory so the other male rhinos won’t come try to take their mates away. If another males tries to take over the territory, there is a huge battle. Doctor said he’s seen a couple of those battles and that they are awesome. Unfortunately, we didn’t have that kind of luck. Isn’t it interesting that you can travel half way around the world to see a hole in the ground and a pile of rhino doo doo? It was a highlight.

I got to sit in the front seat with Doctor after deciding that to climb the ladder to get into the higher viewing seats would create too much of an unsavory spectacle. It was great because we had the opportunity to chat a little. Here are some of the things I learned from Doctor. In the townships there are different tribes, each with its own king (his word), all living together in peace. A man has to pay for a bride with cows. Most men have at least 3 or 4 wives. Doctor has three families but is divorced from his first wife. I asked him if he ever saw the movie. And I asked him if the wives ever had fights and if they babysat for each other and who does the cooking. It seems I never got to hear the answers because we always came up on another animal and he was distracted. At the end I gave Doctor a little tip and told him to take all 3 of his wives out for a nice dinner. It was all fun…lots of laughs.


The lions were a highlight too. Good ole Doctor spotted three of them, lying in the shade watching…
Hold on. First Doctor saw a large group of impalas, which are such beautiful little animals, all standing still as sticks and all looking in the same direction. That was the clue for Doctor. If the impalas were behaving like that, there had to be predators around. (What’s a predator???) And sure enough Doctor found the lions for us to see. They were just lying there watching the impalas, a couple of them got up and had a better look….but they didn’t charge because they saw us. Some of the kids were hoping to witness a kill but it didn’t happen.

The two mornings at we were Kruger we got up at 4:30 in the morning and met at the vehicles at 5 in the most beautiful pre dawn light you could imagine with birds calling loudly back and forth. I don’t do it very often but when I do get up early, I just love the light and the cool air and the sounds. We’d have coffee in the lobby of the lodge and then we’d grab our box breakfasts and take off. The second morning, after driving around and looking at/for animals, we took our breakfast break at a rest stop with a little restaurant and small cabins they rent out for campers. Yes, they did have RV sights, too!!! So we sat down at picnec tables under huge shade trees – umbrella trees, Doctor called them, and there were monkeys scampering around! I was so surprised. They were so close they seemed tame. So tame that all of a sudden one of those little devils jumped onto a table next to ours and stole a container of yoghurt right from in front of a German lady! He climbed just high enough into the tree that we could all watch him smugly eating the lady’s yoghurt! He’d poke his snout into the container, come out with a pink face and lick his lips as he looked around…bold as brass!

Kruger was great. I’d go back for safari in one of the other parks. I’d go back to South Africa! It was a very interesting and beautiful place…the landscape is gorgeous. We saw some RV’s and I’m thinking it would be fun to rent one and drive all over the place. Beaches. Safaris. Duddn’t dat sound like fun, y’all?

October 10, 2009, Saturday

I’m sitting in the deck 6 dining room – the Garden Room. A little while ago whales were spotted but I was too late getting to the window to see them. There’s a scattering of kids sitting around working, computers and books open. The sea is grey; bits of blue poke through high clouds. The big swells that began before we were out of the Cape Town harbor have calmed a bit. The ship still rocks and I still love it. Thank you, God, Whoever You are, for excusing me from seasickness. What a pain that must be!

We’ve been skirting the shore of the Southern tip of Africa and will make a right turn soon and head for Port Louis, Mauritius, a vacation paradise for Europeans. How beautiful the land is with big white breakers crashing on the shore and green fields sloping up towards mountains.

October 11, 2009, Sunday

I’ve just had a little quiet time doing some ohm-ing, some breathing, some writing in my gratitude notebook. Sometimes, I want so badly to jump back into the bed. I have a slight desire to do that right now, but I also have gratitude that I am up and have had a good morning and that I am writing. It was great chatting with Carla and Charlie Tolbert – he’s the astronomy prof. She’s from Holland and is one of 9 children. Always looks great with a slim figure and beautiful understated clothes. See, I told myself, give it time; connections with people will come your way. It’s ok to spend time alone. You’ve needed this r&r, this time to recoup. Sitting here, one leg crossed over the other with my computer on my lap, sitting in this comfortable, supportive chair, looking out at the up and down of the rail against the horizon, looking at the waves and whitecaps and troughs, at the grayish sky, THIS moment of my life is perfect. Thank you God, for giving it to me., for allowing me to learn how to give it to myself.

I was thinking about taking my ‘family’ to dinner up on the pool deck and letting them order whatever they want. I think I’ll do it…yep, that’ll be it. Should be fun.

Off now, for the bridge tour.

There are so many times when I wish I could have a computer chip in my brain so I could more easily record my thoughts and ideas and plans. I just came from the bridge tour. It was little more than a demonstration of how very much we are linked to and dependent on technology. The ship was/is on auto-pilot. There is a ‘black box’ just like on a plane, recording everything from the amount of waste water that’s being processed to the very words that are spoken on the bridge. I suppose I was hoping for something a little more dramatic like in the movies. By the way, we drink and bathe in sea water! They have a desalination plant on the ship. Grey water is treated and released at sea; black water is ...i'm not sure - treated and released in port.

The clouds are breaking up a little. Patches of blue sky are appearing and the ocean is turning from gun metal to navy blue, no, marine blue. It’s so beautiful. The ocean makes me think of blue dotted swiss …that dress Mary had! Dark blue dotted Swiss with white dots. Oh God, Your ocean is so pretty!!!


I have just returned from watching the movie “Milk” in the Union. There was discussion afterwards. Where else but in a community like this could one attend an event like that with so little hassle? It’s one of the many gifts that come with the SAS experience. Otherwise, you’d first have had to notice that the event was taking place, buy a ticket, then you’d have to drive yourself there, find a parking space. Here it’s out your door up a flight of stairs and you’re there. It was good. I remember how surprised and pleased I was to hear in the 70’s that Harvey Milk had been elected to public office in San Francisco and how shocked and sad I was when I heard he had been murdered. Then that Shepherd boy was killed in Wyoming. When I think of all the suffering that has plagued gay people, I am just so sad. Ignorance and bigotry have to go!

October 16,2009, Friday

Today I almost missed my Blue Safari! I thought tomorrow was Friday. But then, Gloria set me straight and I made it to the bus just in time. What is Blue Safari? It’s a trip in a submarine!!!!!!! First you get on a bus at the ship and drive for almost an hour. Then you come to a very nice little beach town, walk through a park and down a small pier and board a small ferry-boat with a canvas on top to block the sun. The ferry takes you out in the lagoon to a bigger boat (about as big as our life boats) which you board; then you transfer (by jumping!) to the submarine. To get in the sub you have to go through a hatch – like in Lost – climb down a ladder and into the cabin which is too low to stand in and you sit down in little seats, each with a round window. It was very small…very cramped. I hate to tell you all that I can’t make an exciting story out of an adventure that wasn’t much of an adventure. Some people on the right side (I was on the left) saw the octopus but I never saw it. We all saw the Japanese ship that had been sunk on purpose to create a fake reef. Coral was starting to grow on it but I could barely tell what was rust and what was coral. Everything looked the same color: brownish grey. We all saw different fish: a few yellow/white striped ones, a few angel fish with bright blue, some groupers, other little fish that were brown or black. I was lucky because I got to see the pineapple worm: it was brown and looked like a pineapple; it was about as big as a cat; all it did was sit there on the reef like a bumpy rock. One very interesting thing was that things changed color as we went deeper. The girl next to me had on a bright pink blouse with gold threads through it and a bright red skirt with a black design woven in it. (she was visiting our ship from India). Well her blouse turned a brownish purple color and her skirt turned just blackish brown. All the white people in the sub turned kind of greenish color even though no one was sick, thank heaven!
So…..who knows why white skin turns greenish when you go deep in the ocean? How deep
Did we go? I knew you’d ask. I have to find out. I’m back. My certificate says we went down 30 feet.

So can you tell that the Blue Safari wasn’t nearly as exotic as it sounds? Don’t get me wrong: it was fun. I think I just expected more colorful fish like on the National Geographic channel. Actually it was a cool thing to do. I need to go find my excited pills.

This evening – October 17, Saturday, we sail for India. INJAH!!!! If only I can get this thing ‘published’ on the blog.

On board agt lastg.

This is for you, ELISE!!!!!! MY FIRST PICTURE BLOGGED JUST FOR YOU. NOW GET OFF MY BACK!!! XXOO

Cape Town

October 2, 2009

There have been two different bugs going around the ship since we left Ghana. Upper body and lower body…I got hit with the latter so have been out of commission for a while.

Now I gotta go get dressed and take myself up to watch the sunrise and the arrival of our pilot who will take us into the port of Cape Town. Don’t feel so good about going there with all its history of apartheid. Why are we so horrid to each other?

October 4, 2009, Sunday

Arrival in CapeTown.

Our first day in Cape Town was very nice. I went on the afternoon City Orientation Tour. We visited the Castle of Hope - not a castle really but a fortress with lovely grounds and soft yellow barracks buildings all surrounded by a wall made of stone and brick. We walked into a dungeon where they kept prisoners sometime in the past. Don’t remember who ‘they’ were nor who ‘the prisoners’ were but it was small and dark and darker still as you descended the stairs. It was a dungeon, for goodness sake! Should I find looking at a dungeon to be a fascinating activity? After the Castle we strolled through a lovely city park/garden with lush trees, plants, flowers, lots of mourning doves cooing in the thick branches and some perky squirrels poking around in the dirt. Lots of blacks in the park – families, sweethearts, picnicking groups. We stopped at a sweet outdoor restaurant for tea and scones – part of the tour. There were no blacks having tea, I noticed. Then we walked to the Museum – I don’t know which one but it had a very nice display of African artifacts including things like pottery, beaded items, a display showing how they made beads from shells and bones ‘in the olden days’, baskets, mud huts with thatched roofs, jewelry, slices of walls from caves with paintings that dated anywhere from 5000 years ago to 450,000 years ago!!!!!! That’s four hundred and fifty thousand years ago!!!! There was a terrific display of a gigantic whale skeleton hanging from the ceiling – not unlike the one in the Natural History Museum in New York and, no doubt, in other museums around the world. I’ll bet there’s a whale carcass in some Chicago museum too. And in LA! These guys were pretty old though I don’t know exactly how old. There’s a picture of me standing between two jawbones of a whale. The bones alone were taller than a full-grown man! Impressive.

Back on the ship I saw Rankin (fellow Life Long Learner) sitting alone at a table in the dining room that was relatively empty. Most people dash off the ship to go on overnight excursions as soon as the port officials give the go sign. So we were talking about my trepidation over going to a township. He told me he had a terribly confusing time in Morocco and in Ghana the first time he came to Africa which was in 1967, I believe, on his first SAS voyage and that he was still confused because in Ghana particularly, so little has changed. Once again he found himself weeping upon seeing all the poverty there.

That night we went by bus to the Arts Center where we had wine and h’or d’oeuvres and a speech by an alumnus of SAS who now manages the Arts Center. Then we attended a performance of HMS Pinafore. In spite of there being a full house that night, the seat next to me remained empty throughout the whole performance. Well, not really empty. The ole Captain of the Pinafore from 1956 Spring Hill College was there, laughing, cursing because he had been far superior to this guy on the stage! Right. It was nostalgic but oh so much fun. They took liberties staging this piece and it was fine. There were good voices, good dancing, a beautiful set and lighting: all in all it was a pleasure that made me laugh. Kathy, you would have…well…I’m not sure. I guess you would have liked it. Yes, you would have. There was a student next to me from the Basque Country of Spain who said he couldn’t understand a single word. I tried to explain a little about G&S to him and assure him that most people didn’t understand either because the actors were either Brits or South Africans and their accents were very difficult to understand.

I felt sorry for some of the kids who barely endured the performance. For me it was pure fun.

October 4, 2009, Sunday

I have just had an experience that brought chill bumps to my arms and tears to my eyes.

I’d put the last stamp on the postcards and walked out to mail them in Tymitz Square (the central place on the ship). A middle aged couple were shaking hands with and saying goodbye to a crew member. I couldn’t help it, I had to ask them, “Are you visitors to the ship?”

“We’re alumni, the Spring 09 Voyage and we’ve just come aboard for a visit.”

I was thrilled to meet them and asked how they’d heard of Semester at Sea etc. and what did they do…are they living in Cape Town? Lavinia and Terry Cranford-Browne: she worked for Archbishop Desmond Tutu. “I was his PA for 25 years and just retired last year. That’s when we decided to go on Semester at Sea.”

“Oh my God, I have goose bumps on my arms!” I

exclaimed.

“And Terry”, Lavinia continued, “is a political activist.” Oh Lord! How could I be so lucky?!

At 11 this morning, Ellie and I left the ship to shop at the waterfront mall. It was a doable walk for the two of us. We both use canes, Ellie having been in a terrible auto accident a number of years ago. Early on in the voyage, once I realized I could probably get away with it, I said to Ellie one day, “We can sing our camp song, Ellie: ‘We are the Jolly Girls from Cripple Camp; and we are brimming full of peppity-epp-epp-epp.’” (I hope I don’t offend anyone with that. If I do, get over it!) She laughed and we’ve become buddies. We walked around the mall which was lovely or grotesque, depending on your point of view about malls. I got a small carryon bag with wheels for my safari later this week; Ellie got some stuff then we sat down and had a “cocoa chiller” which turned out to be a chocolate milk shake; then took a cab back to the ship. The shopping thing is a bit of a problem. I don’t know what the hell to get. However, in the book store I was able to buy some cute postcards shaped like animals for all the grandchildren and for KM, Stacy & CJ and CMR and for my three siblings. Stamps too. We saw some stuff that I liked. I love African arts and crafts…designs etc. and am hoping to pick up a few things for my house wherever that ends up being located. And, of course, I want to get things for each of the kids and grandkids. Afterall, Christmas is coming.

Don’t worry about it, Liz.

Ok, God. I’ll just leave the shopping schtick to You.

So back to Lavinia and Terry. I’ve been vacillating about going to Robben Island and to visit a Township. I don’t want to look at the cell where that poor man, Nelson Mandela and so many other political prisoners sat or the limestone quarry where they worked for…how many years? 20? Nor do I want to go to some ghetto and ogle the poor people who have suffered so much at the hands of colonialists and red/necks from England and the Netherlands or wherever they were from. I felt I simply didn’t have the stomach for it. Ellie and I were going to go to a crafts mall tomorrow to shop. Ditch the township and Robben island ideas. I was so thrilled to meet this couple and told them so and asked if they could spare a few minutes to sit down and talk. Would they like to come to my cabin, just a few steps away? They agreed and after they sat down, noticing and commenting on little things they remembered from their voyage, I said, “I’m so grateful we can talk if only for a little while.” I hesitated but then barged on, ” I have a particular question I’d like to ask you. Can you tell me…can you give me a reason for wanting to visit a township? I haven’t wanted to go. I’m afraid to go.”

“Oh don’t be afraid,” said, Terry. “You’ll be perfectly safe. No harm will come to you. The people are wonderfully friendly.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid I won’t be safe. I’m afraid that I will be so angry about colonialism; and so sad about subjugation and enslavement of human beings. Can you tell me why I shouldn’t feel that way?” By now I was wiping tears from my cheeks …I was so very moved by this opportunity to spend a moment with this woman who had enjoyed years of time working with archbishop Desmond Tutu and of this man who has surely been in the thick of so much political activity and perhaps even had a hand in shaping history in one way or another. It was like being in the presence of saints. Sorry for the drama, but that’s what I was feeling. I don’t like even to use the word ‘hate’ but I do have a big problem with racism and stupid, blind prejudice. Look at the wars and deaths and suffering they have caused human beings! WHY?

Terry began to talk and how I wish I’d had a tape recorder. “The reason for going to visit a township is that the experience will give you hope.”

“Hope?” I asked. What in the world could he mean by that. Looking at people crammed into row after row of ‘houses’, ‘homes’ built of corrugated metal with no electricity, primitive facilities at best is going to give me hope?

By the way, kids of all ages, please, please do some research. Go to Google and type in some of these words: South Africa, apartheid, townships, colonialism. Parents: explain some of this to your children; go to their schools and explain some of it, especially if they are following this voyage in any way. Adapt some of this stuff for the children. We need to teach them gratitude!!! They deserve to learn to be grateful!!!

Lavinia took up where Terry left off, speaking enthusiastically: “You want to go to a township because your visit will be a gift to the people. You will give them an opportunity to know that they have not been forgotten by the rest of the world. They know you will tell the story of your visit to your friends and families and in that way they don’t have to feel abandoned. They will have hope that life can improve for them and their children. You will be able in your own individual way to spread awareness of the conditions in which these people live and in the process, perhaps, help to solve some of the problems even if it’s in the smallest way.

I got it! It was a relief. I was grateful to them and explained how I don’t like to dwell on the fact that we lost Carolyn and Greg but that I do share our story because it may move people to do what they can to support research that will bring about a cure for brain cancer. One day there will be no more brain tumors and no more apartheid…but only if we know about them and are moved to do what we can to stop them.

Idealistic. So what? Being idealistic is a job somebody’s got to do. Why not me? Why not you?

Hi everyone, I'm back on the ship after CapeTown and am determined to catch up on the blogging. Tim in the computer lab helped me find the lost blog entry, so for now scroll down a bit to the entry entitled "Ghana". There'll be more ... check a little later. xxxooo to all

Hello to all,

Sorry for the long break between my posts. I had a whole draft ready to go but haven't been able to open it. I'll be getting some help - I hope - from an expert later today or tomorrow. In the meantime, just want you all to know I'm alive and well and still enjoying myself. Ghana was great...I loved it, as you will see when I get that draft back. It contained lots of details about what we saw and did so I hope I can retrieve it. The people were so friendly. I could see myself returning to Ghana sometime.

A few of you have let me know that e-mails have been bouncing back to you. Could be I made a mistake giving you the correct address which is: earubin@semesteratsea.net. If you still have problems, just send to my home E-mail address which is: erjk@mac.com. As you can imagine, I love hearing from you all. It's such a thrill to open my computer and find mail!! I'll get back to you soon. Love l

test

This is test. I'm having a little trouble.

Ghana

Four days in Ghana could be a complete short story or even a book rather than a short blip on the pages of this blog about my trip around the world. I fell in love with Ghana. Perhaps it was because of the contrast to Morroco. People on board seemed to agree that they didn't like Morocco. either. To me it was dour and heavy which probably had a lot to do with the real or imagined condition of women, certainly in the more recent light that’s been shining on Islam in general. True we don’t have anything like a complete story of the Islamic world, in particular with regard to women, but, on the surface of it, it ain’t pretty and makes me uncomfortable. When it is underscored by seeing so many women covered, when you hear music that is so unfamiliar and feels not at all uplifting, when you look at the Islamic art which seems to be based so much on geometry and all this is being colored by stories of the Taliban and blue burkas, it is difficult to conjure up a positive attitude toward even this more Westernized country. If only the extremists could soften their views about what God-Allah wants for/from us. If only 9/11 had never happened, I believe my view of this country that is so ‘other’ might be a little more positive.

But back to Ghana. I slept through our arrival, preferring to face the world after the early rush of so many of the field trips disembarking at once. That process can be exciting but chaotic, with all the students milling around, backpacks loaded, water bottles dangling, with the chatter of anticipation buzzing all over the ship. Also I knew we would be docking in a crowded port 30 minutes by bus to Accra (over an hour during rush hours). We soon learned that the road situation and infrastructure in general in Ghana is woefully inadequate. I had nothing scheduled for that first day until the Welcome Reception at a University at 6pm so I just stayed on board. The ship had arranged for shuttle buses to and from town on the half hour. Having misread my watch, I left an hour early… a good thing because slow traffic allowed me to take pictures from the bus. I made notes of some of the sights along the way at roadside stands: a dozen different colored fitted sheets hanging from a line and blowing in the wind like spinnakers; piles of green and orange oranges stacked in triangles on a makeshift table along with other produce in baskets; terribly unkempt (by our standards) soccer fields with three or four games going on at a time (like in the US) ; a naked toddler running around while his mother sat chatting with her friends ; a wonderful music video on the TV in the bus with what sounded to me like reggae music played by colorfully dressed musicians; dirt paths through stubbly fields leading from the main road to residential areas that looked nothing like Levittown or Somerset NJ or Elmhurst ILL; huge trees shaped like umbrellas with groups of people sitting under them to escape the sun, some tending little wooden stalls selling …whatever; cell phone towers…many cell phone towers…we were told that almost everyone in Ghana has a cell phone; electric wires strung on bumpy poles that looked like they’d been processed by hand rather than in a lumber mill - we learned that many houses have illegal power lines running to them; shack after shack after shack made out of pieces of red railroad freight cars, most of them with “Vodaphone” signs painted on them. (no slouchers, the Vodaphone folks!). I wasn’t sure if these shacks were dwellings in addition to being ‘stores”; patches of black where vegetation had been burned – the roadsides seemed clean except for concentrated areas of debris all swept up waiting to be collected or, more realistically, just burned so we could breathe plastic fumes instead of nice clean air…(excuse my cynicism –“plastics, my boy, plastics). Some of the burned out areas were, I believe, burned patches of sugar cane, which needs to be burned to enrich the soil or some such thing. Rows of stands selling everything from diapers to new furniture, cabinets, refurbished hubcaps), bikes (if you lost your bike, this is the place to find it), coconuts, fish, produce – a veritable Wallmart on the side of the road!; women (rarely a man) balancing big metal or plastic tubs on their heads full, I suppose, of the goods they had purchased along the road. I have concluded that this accounts for the beautiful posture they all exhibit.

We finally reached the Total Gas Station that also serves as a bus terminal in Accra. I was able to catch another bus that took us to the reception. We were in a large tented outdoor area at a small university with molded plastic chairs in pastel colors lined up or piled up; a long buffet table was set up off to the side. After some drumming and dancing, followed by a few welcoming speeches, we all ate while mingling with the Ghanian students – all very friendly and well spoken. It was a nice little mixer. The drink of the day was pineapple juice – the most delicious I have ever tasted. Luca, are you the one that loves pineapple so much? Well you would have LOVED this juice!

The next day a group of us – students and LLL’s – took the bus to town for some shopping. As we stepped off the bus we were ‘accosted’ by hordes of young men with bracelets and carvings and necklaces and lord-knows-what-all being pushed at us. “What is your name, Mama? I want to make you a bracelet like this one with your name. I’ll give it to you for very good price.” “Why you not buy from me, Mamma? I very nice guy.” Their 'assertiveness' was a little annoying but most were good natured and even funny. So I just held my head up and marched on saying with a laugh, “No. No. No thank you.” When we crossed the street and stepped up on the walkway where the ATMs were located, they all backed away. Off limits and they knew it. Pretty funny I thought. So we got our ‘cedes’ (Ghanaian money pronounced like the music discs) and headed for the Global Mammas shop on a side street nearby. I bought a few things there and later wished I’d gone back for more. Everything is hand made and charming. On each article there is a hangtag with the name of the woman who made it. If you google Global Mammas, you can learn more about this wonderful program of micro lending.

Before leaving the ship I had spoken briefly to Lisa Salmans who manages a restaurant in Accra. Kathy sent me her number & e-mail address. She met Lisa in LA at the showroom where she works. Lisa was there to buy furnishings for the restaurant in Ghana. “ My mother’s going to be in Ghana! …”, Kathy told her. Good. A contact! I had no idea what to expect: would it be a little place on a side street with local food or what? And here I was bringing a bunch of women to a place I knew nothing about. Well it was a beautiful place in a tall pink – PINK – building right in the middle of town. The décor was lovely – all black and white in a round room with window walls looking out in all directions over the city. The white dishes, the black placemats, the sparkling glassware, the ceiling to floor sheer drapes and the white leather chairs were all simple and very elegant. Lisa was generous in her praise of your help in choosing everything, Kathy. The place really could have been in New York or even Paris. There were 8 of us including three students. We had a lovely lunch including some traditional Ghanaian dishes. While we drank champagne, courtesy of Lisa, she told us about how she came to be the manager of Citizen Kofi. The naming of the restaurant was interesting I thought: implying that Ghana is a citizen of the world and Kofi is a name that personifies peace as in the work of Kofi Annan at the United Nations. It would have been great to hear more about Lisa’s life but time just didn’t allow.

September 19, Saturday

The Talent/No Talent Show was last night and yes, I did my “The Thip” pome to thunderous applause. People in the back couldn’t hear cause I forgot to turn on my mike. Oh well, they got the idea. I was one of three or four LLL’s who had the audacity to get up there. What the heck: if you aren’t willing to make a fool of yourself once in a while, you miss out on some good fun. The place was packed. Some of the acts were hilarious; I can’t wait for Halloween to see what these kids come up with. No doubt many came prepared. Anyway, the AV people recorded the show and someone said they were going to put it on the SAS website. Two whole hours?

We’re heading towards our next port: Ghana. There are a couple of Ghanian students who came aboard in Morocco and have been giving presentations and mixing with everyone. Very interesting to see the similarities: people are people. Many of the adults have commented about the quality, the maturity and poise of the students as a whole. They are impressive, demonstrating intelligence and …and…I don’t know: I simply haven’t seen any sloppy drunks staggering around this ship. They seem to be just nice, normal kids, serious enough about their work, grateful to be on SAS, silly, studious and having fun. The trick is not to get kicked off the ship. Tom Hogarty the “Community Resource Director”, or law and order guy, who patrols the halls all night long and is in the know, says these kids are extraordinary. And that’s not to say that one or two didn’t overindulge in Casa, but for the most part they seem to be steering clear of trouble. In my book they are all darling and I’m looking at them and seeing you, Greg and Emily and Taylor and Ben. Wish you all were here; maybe you will be soon!

In the Jazz class I attend, the prof has been talking about Ghanain music using recordings and demonstrations. It’s amazing what he can do along with the recordings, stomping his foot, beating tables with drum sticks. One of the field trips I’m going on is a workshop in music and dancing. The Ganain music reminds me a little of the music our marimba group played in Santa Fe although that music is from East Africa – Zimbabwe. This music is wild with multiple rhythms and tunes all at the same time. Some would call it loud noise. I’ll try to get some good pictures at the workshop.

Several LLL’s will be leaving the ship in Accra and in Capetown so there was a special dinner in their honor. Earlier this week there was a reception for Staff, crew, faculty and LLL’s. All the ladies got dressed up, except for a couple who just don’t ever get dressed up, I guess. What did I wear? White pants, coral pink E. Fisher short sleeved sweater and the scarf you gave me, Elise. I can assure you that I looked fab. I got there a little late and was looking for a place to sit down or a group to join. There were three bright white uniforms sitting alone so I decided to join them. Meet some new people, you know. Two were from Bulgaria and one from Greece – chief engineer, assistant engineer, and the air conditioning engineer who looked like a giant Robert De Niro. He said people tell him that all the time. 50 years old. Three months at sea; three at home. Wife. 2 kids. 2 grandkids. With a bit of a heavy accent: “I come home and my wife, she complain to me. I tell her she should not give her life to the grandkids…etc.” I told him: “The minute you get home, take her to a lovely dinner and a nice hotel for a few days. She’ll be fine.” The older guy, the one from Greece wanted to know why I was on this voyage – “Just to see the world?” as if: what’s the big deal to see the world. “What you do all day???” he asked as if we adults should be back where we belong. All in all it was fun talking to these guys. We had plenty of laughs.

I can’t help but compare this experience to the one I had in 1951 when we sailed across the ocean and then lived in France for three years. For me it was the adventure of a lifetime …like going to Mars. Europe was SO far away, so different, so old. There were no jets so people weren’t traveling much and, of course, it was right after the end of the 2^nd world war so we saw plenty of the destruction from the war – bombed out buildings etc. Going to Europe and seeing so many things you’d read about in history books was not something people could easily do. Yes, they went on ships, but traveling the way we do now was impossible. I wonder if anyone in the Williams Family remembers that clay pitcher I found on a field trip with our history teacher, Mr. Fay (upon whom, by the way, I had a huge crush) who took us to see some Roman ruins near Chateauroux. To this day I can see the mounds of dirt around some broken down piles of stones that had been a Roman house or barn or something. The pitcher was probably made in 1940 but Mr. Fay and I both agreed that the pitcher was from Roman times. Remember, we used to serve lemonade in that pitcher? Okay, so which one of you has it????

One of the activities planned is the Neptune Day celebration. Now children – all of you who are school age, including the children at Trinity School in New Orleans and those at Canterberry and those at Karlthorpe and Elmhurst middle school and St. Whatchamahoodles in Chicago etc. when I tell you to look up a word or to Google something, I want you to DO IT AND REPORT BACK TO ME. My e-mail address is: earubin@semesteratsea.com. So tell me what you find out about Neptune Day Celebrations. Who or what is Neptune? What happens on Neptune Day? What happens to people who have never celebrated Neptune Day? You kids have gotta git on the stick here and PARTICIPATE!!!! Annabel…Elia…Sarah?

What does that word, “participate” mean?

After Ghana we’ll be going to South Africa. Who knows where it is? What is apartheid? Who knows anything about Nelson Mandela? Who knows anything about Nelson Mandela and rugby? Taylor????

Well chilluns, granny has to go to the Lounge for the daily gathering of LLL’s. It’s cocktail time tra la. I wish those engineers would show up again. I don’t think they’re allowed.

Love you all.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009 11 am-ish.

First of all, I woke in the middle of the night, slapped my thigh, so to speak, and said out loud: “The feast of the Immaculate Conception is DECEMBER the 8th, dum-dum!” At least I was thinking about you, Mar.

At this moment, I’m sitting in the faculty lounge (which we are allowed to use) looking out at an enormous cupcake with humongous globs of whupped cream on top, sitting on a navy blue tablecloth: The Rock of Gibraltar with hovering clouds, no less!!!

Before I forget – will some family member please send Maeve my blog and e-mail addresses. People have asked how I heard of SAS. It was from you, Maeve, that day at Spring Hill when I listened to you and silently prayed that God would please, please make Carolyn want to go on Semester at Sea and keep me from opening my mouth, lest I say the wrong thing and turn her off. Needless to say my prayers were answered. Oh what a gift this was/is. Thank you, Maeve.

We’re re-fueling just off Gibraltar.

SEPTEMBER 16, 2009

We spent almost a whole day bobbing in the waters off Gibraltar, waiting in line to refuel. It was a beautiful day and the scenery could not have been better. Funny thing I always thought Gibraltar was on the northern edge of Africa and that you could look across the Mediterranean from Spain and see it. Wrong. It’s part of Europe, as everyone probably knows, but is British, I believe. This is a time when I’m frustrated by not getting a signal for the internet in my room. Gotta go out in the hall. I’d like to Google Gibraltar right now.

So after refueling we headed off for Casablanca. It felt so good to be back at sea. It is SOOO soothing to me, so relaxing. Tonight I have the balcony door open and can hear the purr of the engines and the splashing of the waves as we glide along ever so smoothly. At noon today the water was 74 degrees F and the air was 73. The water was 2000 feet deep! Announcements are broadcast each day at noon and at 6pm (1800) and always include info about our speed, water temp etc. Today was gorgeous and I spend quite a lot of time on my balcony, reading. Thank you God for such blessing!

So…our next stop was Casa, as they call Casablanca. The port was an impressive sight as we approached it early in the morning. Cranes, cranes and more cranes jutting into the sky along with the tower of the new mosque. As we drew closer and as we docked we found ourselves in a vast port area that was paved with containers stacked two high. I sat and watched a- I don’t know what to call it – a huge upside-down u- shaped contraption with a cab on top for the operator. Hanging down at the end of at least 8 cables was a metal thing that looked like a table with enormous claws on each corner. This thing would descend over a container, hover then the claws would reach out and grasp the corners of the container then the whole thing would rise in the air and slide over to the waiting ship where it would then disappear into the hold of the ship. I watched this operation for a while and decided to time how long it took to move one container from the ground to the ship. Two and a half minutes. It was intriguing because this vast area was covered with containers and I just wondered how long it would take to move them all. When you think of all the ports in the world and all the containers…do the math. Amazing world we live in!

I went on what they call the “City Orientation Tour” which is a good way to get an overview of a city. We got a look at an old market with narrow aisles and aggressive merchants, many office buildings and apartment buildings – all dingy white – with laundry hanging on lines strung between windows; fancy hotels; we visited some kind of building the king uses for Idon'trememberwhat; we saw many women in long dresses and veils- a sight we found startling if not disturbing. It’s not that we didn’t know to expect to see covered women in Morocco, it just was so striking to see. Thank God they don’t have the Taliban there insisting on blue burkas! I would have stood up and screamed! Eventually we went through a residential area with nicer apartments and townhouses. Then we came to a very upscale area where Arab jillionaires have houses they visit occasionally. Oh and we passed one of the king’s houses – one of his 36 or so palaces. He’s a good guy and has made many improvements in Morocco since taking office – in the 60’s I think.

Is my lack of enthusiasm for Casablanca coming through? I wasn’t the only one who found it missing a je ne sait quoi. Even those who explored the city in a little more depth reported their disappointment.

Rabat, down the coast, however was more appealing. I ask myself if it was because it was cleaner and chastise myself for thinking cleaner is necessarily better. How in the world will we do in India? Again I was on a bus going to Rabat and loved getting outside the city and seeing open space, farms (no, not like in Iowa or Nebraska). The harvest must just be over because the fields were brown stubble often dotted with small groups of cattle and largish herds of sheep or goats with a shepherd standing watch over them. We saw many people walking down little dirt roads, an occasional donkey cart – with a woman at the reins, covered, of course. We saw kids playing soccer. Everywhere laundry was hanging on lines. The houses and outbuildings appeared to be made of adobe. Too bad there was no time to walk around, to meet some of the people. I’ve had to reconcile myself to the fact that this experience can only be a cursory glance at the places we visit.

Noon report: the sea is 4000 feet deep; we’re 64 miles from the nearest land, sliding down the coast of Africa! Can I believe I’m, actually here? …

… So the noon report was upstaged when one of the students came ripping past my window here in the faculty lounge, pointing and screaming as she rounded the bow and began jumping up and down. “There! There!”

Dolphins! LOTS of dolphins!!! Jumping. Surfing. Oh lord, there are no words to describe the excitement of seeing them. “Cetaceans”: Grace? Luca? Devon? Dictionary time. Will someone please send me an e-mail with the definition of ‘cetacean’? And how bout some of those other words? Comeon, kids!

On Tuesday I had dinner with my Extended Family. I was assigned six kids and invited two others I’d met to join us. We were stealing chairs and silverware from other tables when they all showed up. I must admit to having felt a little nervous. Who is this lady? What are we supposed to do or say? Everything was fine and fun and I spend some time in the bed that night mentally going around the table remembering their names: Grace, Rebecca, Marcus, Denise, Charlotte, Barry, Louis, and Carol. I’ll get pictures of them all. Oh lord, I don’t want to think about pictures. At least I have them all in the computer and the camera is emptied. I’ve labeled some and created categories based on our ports. I’ll keep trying and getting help with this project. Anyway the kids are all so cute. We went around the table and told a little about ourselves. I told them they couldn’t say “Me and Billy went to the store.” And they had to ask to be excused when they wanted to leave the table. All that was good for some laughs.

The Talent/No Talent show is tomorrow night – the 18th. When I see one of my family in the halls or the dining room I remind them that they have to come to the talent show and clap for me. I told Allysa, who’s running the show, that I wanted a dressing room backstage with 2 dozen roses in a crystal vase on my makeup table. I’ve told the Life Long Learners they have to all come and cheer for me. They want to know what I’m going to do. “I’m going to recite a poem.” I say. “Oh, how interesting! Which poem will you be reciting?" they ask ever so politely. “No, no, no. You have to come.” I sit here laughing, It’s just wonderful to be able to amuse one’s self! Stop rolling your eyes, Kathy!

Before I forget, Linda & Bub: the gal’s name is Shirley Lowes.

Just in case any of you didn’t see it, here’s my new e-mail address: earubin@semesteratsea.com. I don’t think you should send anything very long like jokes etc. By the way, I told Rankin the Clarence joke and he cracked up. He’s a lawyer from Huntsville. There are several southerners on board and you know what happens to me when I’m around the drawl. Lots of fun. “I don’t know Clarence…there’s just something about you…” Credit: Karl Gordinier. It was so good to see you and Vera at the dedication, Karl. Thanks for your support. Same for all who were there. So little time to talk; such depth of feeling for you all.

Ahm gunna go put this thang in the ether. More next time. Love to all. EWR xxxooo

Sept 7. Cadiz and Marrakech

Monday, September 7, 2009
Our arrival at Cadiz on Saturday was wonderful. I was up before 6 am, out on my balcony looking for lights. The moon was nearly full and the stars were bright. No daylight savings time so it stays fairly dark until about 7:30. I went up on deck where there were some students and some LLL’s. (Life Long Learners, to refresh your memories)> The air was full of anticipation and excitement. Everyone was taking pics of the moon and then…the lights appeared and the skyline grew as we approached land. A little roar went up. It was such fun. “I can’t believe I’m actually in Spain!” people kept saying. We watched over the side as the pilot boat approached and then as the pilot came aboard. The skyline is a mixture of new and old buildings, and, of course, of the cranes poking into the sky all around the harbor. Modern bldgs and golden domes and steeples – all was just beautiful in the morning light.

A group of us went ashore about 10 am and walked and walked and walked and walked some more all around the narrow alley-like streets of the old part of town. Checked out a couple of churches, a museum, some shops. Had lunch at an outdoor café and enjoyed the people-watching. I stopped to rest now and then, sat down on a shady bench in the middle of a small, busy square near the cathedral. A beautiful white haired woman sat next to me. She wore a bracelet that spelled out ‘Marta’ in silver letters. I touched it and said, “Usted es Marta; me Elizabeth.” It was such fun conversing with her even though she spoke no English and my Spanish is ridiculous. I asked could I take her picture and she agreed. There was an iron ball behind her – part of a fence – that looked like a growth coming out of her neck, so I asked her to move and took another picture. We laughed looking at the first one. It was time to go and I told her we’d become friends in a very short time in spite of not being able to talk. She drew me near to her and kissed me on each cheek. Priceless and so much fun!

In our meanderings we came across a restored Roman arch and later a Roman theater with stone bleachers and parts of the Roman wall that had surrounded the city. It had all been buried under centuries of rubble. It’s amazing to see such a thing. Our church in St. Benoit du Sault where we lived in France, was ‘romanesque’ and was…I need help from my sibs … I’ll just say it was very old because the house we lived in was 500 years old and the church was built way before that!

AND: have any of you kids found out about the very important event in history that made Cadiz famous? Let me know!

So we finally made it home (the ship has for sure already become home to me) from our long, long walk and I went right up to the pool deck for a swim and a snooze in a deck chair. Loverly! The pool is small but I had it to myself – so many people had gone off to Barcelona and Seville etc. It’s a salt water pool. By the way, we’re bathing with and drinking ocean water!!! They have desalination on the ship. There’s a little bit of chlorine but if you let it sit a little while, the chlorine taste dissipates. Look that word up in the dictionary, children, and tell G’ma=mommaliz what it means. Sean and Joey, that means you!

Yesterday I stayed on the ship, recuperating from the longest walk I’ve taken in months. I have to get myself a pedometer because I’m doing lots of walking on the ship in the hallways alone. Dealing with the rock and roll must surely be adding some benefit as well.

Little-by-little I’ve calmed down. Sorry for that last blog being so negative with TMI, perhaps. Oh well. I’m finding my way around just fine. I’ve met some very nice people and am finding it’s a pleasure getting to know them. It’s especially fun to talk to the kids. Let’s see, there’s Louie who is on a work/study program and helps out in the computer lab. He calls me Mommaliz. Then there’s Carina who also helped me with some computer stuff. And Alyssa whom we met, Chrissy, in Halifax with her mother. She and a couple of her friends that I’ve met call me Queen Elizabeth. Ellie, another LLL, who also walks with a cane (which I’m only doing occasionally now, thank God.), and I went to town today and ran into Alyssa who joined us for lunch. She’s so cute …had gone shopping and was thrilled with all her purchases – all very mod and European looking.

At meal times you go into the dining room and if you aren’t with anyone, you just look for a place to sit with someone – young or old. I’ve had some wonderful conversations with kids from all over…today at lunch there was a girl, Carol, who is originally from Uganda, now from Staten Island, I think she said!

The night before we got to Cadiz there was a ‘cultural orientation’ attended by everyone.
Various people talked about various aspects of life in Spain. One young prof was talking about sports in Spain … you know, futball; then he brought up the subject of stereotypes (another good word to look up in the dictionary, kids). “We Spanish think all American men wear low white sox with sandals. See my feet?” He pointed to the white sox and sandals he was wearing. “Do NOT do this in Spain! Now what is a stereotype Americans have of the Spanish?” He walked straight over to me, put the mike in my face and stood there grinning at me, waiting. “All Spanish men are sexy?” I blurted out. Got a pretty good laugh.

So I have questions to answer from some of you. First of all, thank you so much for your e-mails. As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I can answer each one. At least I’ll try to answer your questions. Actually your questions help me with this blog.

What classes am I taking? Well I’m not officially taking any but have sat in on several so far. This seems to be the norm amongst us LLL’s. “Making Documentary Films”, one on “Terrorism” and one on “Muslim Women in the World Today”. I’m just going to bounc around as if I were simply attending a different interesting lecture every day. Everyone on board attends the Global Studies Course which has been very interesting so far…except for one guy who put me to sleep.

Our crossing of the Atlantic was, according to some of the more seasoned voyagers, very smooth. Personally I loved it. Someone was talking about outriggers being deployed. All I could think of was the things that stick out on the side of those Hawaiian canoes. Sure enough, it seems stabilizers are the big ship name for them. These things are deployed in order to stabilize the roll from side to side. Someone else said we don’t do much lurching up and down, thanks to some other wonder of modern maritime engineering. At any rate I have not felt a moment of seasickness… not even queasiness. Here’s what my sister, Mary, wrote to me in her bon voyage note: “Fantastic. Remember the first time you went to sea? Dead of winter, gray waves, gray sky, howling winds and you were thrilled.”
I do indeed remember and I remember that my theory about that was that I never missed a single meal. Hope I haven’t jinxed myself here. Someone said we are supposed to have some rough seas on our way to Casablanca.

How many 20 year old boys have crushes on me? Oh at least 150.

There’s going to be a yoga class.

My cabin is fabulous. I measured it the first day and it was something like 11X17 plus the bathroom which has a very nice shower etc. Plenty of storage in the cabin and in the bathroom plus under the bed. My little balcony is great to have. I love just sitting out there and looking at the water. Also sometimes I can connect to the internet on the balcony which unfortunately I cannot do in my cabin. Some can and some can’t.

The food is fine but desert is usually white cake with no icing so I’m able to easily forego that indulgence. Otherwise I’m happy to be able to say I’ve been eating well – meaning the way I’m supposed to.

I’ve found several computer helpers. Little by little I’m learning things. It’s like starting school in Sophmore year of college and having to catch up on everything from pre-school onward. Oh well.

I want to share this wonderful quote Chrissy sent me:

If you touch it you set the whole thing trembling…
As we move around this world and as we act with kindness or with indifference, or with hostility, toward the people we meet we too are setting the great spider web a-tremble. The life that I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place and time my touch will be felt. Our lives are linked.

Love it, Chrissy.

Love your drawing of my ship, Lindsey and all your letters, “Darien”.

Bub and Linda: there’s a gal on board, Susan Sutton, who has a house in Northstar and who recognized your names. Proved it by saying you, Linda, are a fabulous decorator! She knows you through a friend …forgot the name.

We left Cadiz about two hours ago and now, the ship is back to its gentle rocking. The departure was very dramatic with more of the high winds we’d been having for the last three days. People were out on the decks pushing into the wind trying not to fall over, hair and clothes blowing like crazy. My midriff was exposed to the public for the first time after lo these many years of hiding in the dark. I was comforted by the fact that many midriffs – young and old - were showing and everyone was just laughing. At first there was a tug boat at the bow, trying to pull us away from the dock, but the wind was just too strong and so another tug had to be called into duty. The two of them, plus our own engines finally got us out of there and we’re off to Morocco!

How did I like Spain? Well, As some of you know, I’ve been to Spain before. I found Cadiz to be a…

Wednesday, September 9, 2009 11 am-ish.

First of all, I woke in the middle of the night, slapped my thigh, so to speak, and said out loud: “The feast of the Immaculate Conception is DECEMBER the 8th, dum-dum!” At least I was thinking about you, Mar.

At this moment, I’m sitting in the faculty lounge (which we are allowed to use) looking out at an enormous cupcake with humongous globs of whupped cream on top, sitting on a navy blue tablecloth: The Rock of Gibraltar with hovering clouds, no less!!!

Before I forget – will some family member please send Maeve my blog and e-mail addresses. People have asked how I heard of SAS. It was from you, Maeve, that day at Spring Hill when I listened to you and silently prayed that God would please, please make Carolyn want to go on Semester at Sea and keep me from opening my mouth, lest I say the wrong thing and turn her off. Needless to say my prayers were answered. Oh what a gift this was/is. Thank you, Maeve.

We’re re-fueling just off Gibraltar.

Now it's Sat. the 12th of Sept. I've been sitting here having a silent blue conversation with this computer and finally...FINALLY was able to cut and copy (paste?) this last entry onto the blog. I'm going to hit the send - no, 'publish' button before I lose everything.

Oh heck, I'll write a little more and then 'publish it.'. We're docked at Casablanca. They had the movie running on the in-house, on-board TV. So romantic. But then on the City Orientation tour, the guide assured us that the film was made in Hollywood. Boo hoo. But some woman bought property here, opened up "Rick's Cafe" and no doubt is making a bundle with the tourists who think it's the real deal.

It was raining when we had that tour so things looked a bit dreary. Casablanca is a very industrial city. We saw the old market, the new mosque (from the outside only because it's Ramadan (look it up, children) and the mosque was closed. We drove through commercial areas, poorer residential areas where wet laundry hung on balconies, past the king's palace and a couple of his other residences (my facts could be a wee bit inaccurate) and through some very upscale neighborhoods where the jillionaires from Saudi Arabia and Darfur have houses - homes they don't live in but just visit. We passed by three Catholic churches, a slum area or ghetto - can't think of the exact word - where every shack had a satellite dish that comes with everyone's electric bill, the guide informed us. So that was it for me in Casablanca. I stayed on board all day yesterday since it was raining. Gave me a chance to do some little housekeeping things and to visit with some folks.

This afternoon a group of us are taking a bus tour to Rabat and tomorrow I'm going to Marrakech with my new friend, Susan and with one of the nurses. We're going on the Marrakech Express and spending the night at a charming little hotel Susan found online.
More on that adventure when we return.

Liz, G'ma, Mommaliz, Mom, 'heyyou". xxxooo



























Monday, September 7, 2009
Our arrival at Cadiz on Saturday was wonderful. I was up before 6 am, out on my balcony looking for lights. The moon was nearly full and the stars were bright. No daylight savings time so it stays fairly dark until about 7:30. I went up on deck where there were some students and some LLL’s. (Life Long Learners, to refresh your memories)> The air was full of anticipation and excitement. Everyone was taking pics of the moon and then…the lights appeared and the skyline grew as we approached land. A little roar went up. It was such fun. “I can’t believe I’m actually in Spain!” people kept saying. We watched over the side as the pilot boat approached and then as the pilot came aboard. The skyline is a mixture of new and old buildings, and, of course, of the cranes poking into the sky all around the harbor. Modern bldgs and golden domes and steeples – all was just beautiful in the morning light.

A group of us went ashore about 10 am and walked and walked and walked and walked some more all around the narrow alley-like streets of the old part of town. Checked out a couple of churches, a museum, some shops. Had lunch at an outdoor café and enjoyed the people-watching. I stopped to rest now and then, sat down on a shady bench in the middle of a small, busy square near the cathedral. A beautiful white haired woman sat next to me. She wore a bracelet that spelled out ‘Marta’ in silver letters. I touched it and said, “Usted es Marta; me Elizabeth.” It was such fun conversing with her even though she spoke no English and my Spanish is ridiculous. I asked could I take her picture and she agreed. There was an iron ball behind her – part of a fence – that looked like a growth coming out of her neck, so I asked her to move and took another picture. We laughed looking at the first one. It was time to go and I told her we’d become friends in a very short time in spite of not being able to talk. She drew me near to her and kissed me on each cheek. Priceless and so much fun!

In our meanderings we came across a restored Roman arch and later a Roman theater with stone bleachers and parts of the Roman wall that had surrounded the city. It had all been buried under centuries of rubble. It’s amazing to see such a thing. Our church in St. Benoit du Sault where we lived in France, was ‘romanesque’ and was…I need help from my sibs … I’ll just say it was very old because the house we lived in was 500 years old and the church was built way before that!

AND: have any of you kids found out about the very important event in history that made Cadiz famous? Let me know!

So we finally made it home (the ship has for sure already become home to me) from our long, long walk and I went right up to the pool deck for a swim and a snooze in a deck chair. Loverly! The pool is small but I had it to myself – so many people had gone off to Barcelona and Seville etc. It’s a salt water pool. By the way, we’re bathing with and drinking ocean water!!! They have desalination on the ship. There’s a little bit of chlorine but if you let it sit a little while, the chlorine taste dissipates. Look that word up in the dictionary, children, and tell G’ma=mommaliz what it means. Sean and Joey, that means you!

Yesterday I stayed on the ship, recuperating from the longest walk I’ve taken in months. I have to get myself a pedometer because I’m doing lots of walking on the ship in the hallways alone. Dealing with the rock and roll must surely be adding some benefit as well.

Little-by-little I’ve calmed down. Sorry for that last blog being so negative with TMI, perhaps. Oh well. I’m finding my way around just fine. I’ve met some very nice people and am finding it’s a pleasure getting to know them. It’s especially fun to talk to the kids. Let’s see, there’s Louie who is on a work/study program and helps out in the computer lab. He calls me Mommaliz. Then there’s Carina who also helped me with some computer stuff. And Alyssa whom we met, Chrissy, in Halifax with her mother. She and a couple of her friends that I’ve met call me Queen Elizabeth. Ellie, another LLL, who also walks with a cane (which I’m only doing occasionally now, thank God.), and I went to town today and ran into Alyssa who joined us for lunch. She’s so cute …had gone shopping and was thrilled with all her purchases – all very mod and European looking.

At meal times you go into the dining room and if you aren’t with anyone, you just look for a place to sit with someone – young or old. I’ve had some wonderful conversations with kids from all over…today at lunch there was a girl, Carol, who is originally from Uganda, now from Staten Island, I think she said!

The night before we got to Cadiz there was a ‘cultural orientation’ attended by everyone.
Various people talked about various aspects of life in Spain. One young prof was talking about sports in Spain … you know, futball; then he brought up the subject of stereotypes (another good word to look up in the dictionary, kids). “We Spanish think all American men wear low white sox with sandals. See my feet?” He pointed to the white sox and sandals he was wearing. “Do NOT do this in Spain! Now what is a stereotype Americans have of the Spanish?” He walked straight over to me, put the mike in my face and stood there grinning at me, waiting. “All Spanish men are sexy?” I blurted out. Got a pretty good laugh.

So I have questions to answer from some of you. First of all, thank you so much for your e-mails. As much as I’d like to, I don’t think I can answer each one. At least I’ll try to answer your questions. Actually your questions help me with this blog.

What classes am I taking? Well I’m not officially taking any but have sat in on several so far. This seems to be the norm amongst us LLL’s. “Making Documentary Films”, one on “Terrorism” and one on “Muslim Women in the World Today”. I’m just going to bounc around as if I were simply attending a different interesting lecture every day. Everyone on board attends the Global Studies Course which has been very interesting so far…except for one guy who put me to sleep.

Our crossing of the Atlantic was, according to some of the more seasoned voyagers, very smooth. Personally I loved it. Someone was talking about outriggers being deployed. All I could think of was the things that stick out on the side of those Hawaiian canoes. Sure enough, it seems stabilizers are the big ship name for them. These things are deployed in order to stabilize the roll from side to side. Someone else said we don’t do much lurching up and down, thanks to some other wonder of modern maritime engineering. At any rate I have not felt a moment of seasickness… not even queasiness. Here’s what my sister, Mary, wrote to me in her bon voyage note: “Fantastic. Remember the first time you went to sea? Dead of winter, gray waves, gray sky, howling winds and you were thrilled.”
I do indeed remember and I remember that my theory about that was that I never missed a single meal. Hope I haven’t jinxed myself here. Someone said we are supposed to have some rough seas on our way to Casablanca.

How many 20 year old boys have crushes on me? Oh at least 150.

There’s going to be a yoga class.

My cabin is fabulous. I measured it the first day and it was something like 11X17 plus the bathroom which has a very nice shower etc. Plenty of storage in the cabin and in the bathroom plus under the bed. My little balcony is great to have. I love just sitting out there and looking at the water. Also sometimes I can connect to the internet on the balcony which unfortunately I cannot do in my cabin. Some can and some can’t.

The food is fine but desert is usually white cake with no icing so I’m able to easily forego that indulgence. Otherwise I’m happy to be able to say I’ve been eating well – meaning the way I’m supposed to.

I’ve found several computer helpers. Little by little I’m learning things. It’s like starting school in Sophmore year of college and having to catch up on everything from pre-school onward. Oh well.

I want to share this wonderful quote Chrissy sent me:

If you touch it you set the whole thing trembling…
As we move around this world and as we act with kindness or with indifference, or with hostility, toward the people we meet we too are setting the great spider web a-tremble. The life that I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place and time my touch will be felt. Our lives are linked.

Love it, Chrissy.

Love your drawing of my ship, Lindsey and all your letters, “Darien”.

Bub and Linda: there’s a gal on board, Susan Sutton, who has a house in Northstar and who recognized your names. Proved it by saying you, Linda, are a fabulous decorator! She knows you through a friend …forgot the name.

We left Cadiz about two hours ago and now, the ship is back to its gentle rocking. The departure was very dramatic with more of the high winds we’d been having for the last three days. People were out on the decks pushing into the wind trying not to fall over, hair and clothes blowing like crazy. My midriff was exposed to the public for the first time after lo these many years of hiding in the dark. I was comforted by the fact that many midriffs – young and old - were showing and everyone was just laughing. At first there was a tug boat at the bow, trying to pull us away from the dock, but the wind was just too strong and so another tug had to be called into duty. The two of them, plus our own engines finally got us out of there and we’re off to Morocco!

How did I like Spain? Well, As some of you know, I’ve been to Spain before. I found Cadiz to be a…

Wednesday, September 9, 2009 11 am-ish.

First of all, I woke in the middle of the night, slapped my thigh, so to speak, and said out loud: “The feast of the Immaculate Conception is DECEMBER the 8th, dum-dum!” At least I was thinking about you, Mar.

At this moment, I’m sitting in the faculty lounge (which we are allowed to use) looking out at an enormous cupcake with humongous globs of whupped cream on top, sitting on a navy blue tablecloth: The Rock of Gibraltar with hovering clouds, no less!!!

Before I forget – will some family member please send Maeve my blog and e-mail addresses. People have asked how I heard of SAS. It was from you, Maeve, that day at Spring Hill when I listened to you and silently prayed that God would please, please make Carolyn want to go on Semester at Sea and keep me from opening my mouth, lest I say the wrong thing and turn her off. Needless to say my prayers were answered. Oh what a gift this was/is. Thank you, Maeve.

We’re re-fueling just off Gibraltar.