Andrew Abroad

Vietnam

Vietnam was my first visit to a Communist country, and the rest of my experiences were just as new.  There is so much to say about the country that I am sure I will leave something out.  From sentiments regarding the Vietnam War, to the current political situation, to the daily lives of the river people, I had a lot of new things coming at me all at once.

I had the first full day in Ho Chi Minh, or Saigon, depending on who you ask. The city is very developed and Semester at Sea was nice enough to set up a continuously running shuttle bus from the boat to the city center that was free and ran all day.  For months, everyone had heard about how cheap we could buy suits and dresses in Vietnam, so everyone set out to find a tailor right away in order to insure that our suits could be made in time for our departure.  Well we had heard that we could buy three suits for $100 American, but it turned out that those prices could only be found in the rural parts of Vietnam, so a lot of us were not willing to pay the $100 per suit price that was found at every tailor in Saigon.  After a minute of disappointment, five of us decided that we wanted to see the Cu Chi tunnels, the tunnels built by the Viet Cong soldiers during the Vietnam War, or the American War if you ask a Vietnamese citizen.  We went to a nearby travel agent and ended up getting a private car, an English speaking tour guide, and entrance to the tunnels, which were an hour away, for only $25 American.  We set out for the tunnels and had a very interesting conversation with the tour guide who was from Saigon.  It is often very hard to talk about the Vietnam War or politics with the local people due to Communist surveillance, but our guide was a little less cautious as we were all American tourist.  She explained how the people in South Vietnam called the city Saigon and the North Vietnamese called the city Ho Chi Minh.  She went further to explain that if the government could find anyone in your family who was involved with the South Vietnamese Army, going back three generations, then you could not hold a public office or get a government job.  Her uncle was in the South Vietnamese Army, so she had her own difficulties as a result.  The idea is to keep them all out of any position of power.  She went further to describe how Saigon was the economic center of Vietnam, while the lands only got poorer to the North.  As a result, the South Vietnamese pretty much support the rest of the country, despite the fact that they are not allowed to have any impact on the governmental system.  Another difficulty to the North is the fact that there are 56 different dialects throughout the country, and very few are easy to negotiate.  As a result, each village sends a small amount of students to university in order to learn the language and serve as a communications conduit for the rest of the country.  As for the country’s opinion of the war, it is very strange how they seem to have no animosity left over.  In fact, they seem to favor America’s citizens over any other country’s, including their own people.  Our guide explained how the general population saw the United States as the principal source of growth within the country and only focused their opinions towards this fact, rather than the 3 million people killed; 2 million of which were innocent civilians.  I had a hard time getting my head around this fact, though she did try to explain things to me a little further.  One of the ways in which Ho Chi Minh managed such drive and passion for their pursuit of freedom was to make sure that there was no other source of drive to fight besides the pursuit of freedom itself.  He went as far as to say that once the Americans surrendered, he would invite them to tea afterwards.  His goal was to maintain the purity of their cause, removing malice and vengeance from the equation.  It was this leadership that made him the George Washington of Vietnam.

On our way to the tunnels, we stopped at a government subsidized factory that employed victims of Agent Orange.  It was pretty horrible to see some of the effects that the chemical had one these people.  Some seemed to be suffering from muscle atrophy throughout their entire bodies.  Others were missing limbs, while some seem to have been born without them.  It was hard to see, but necessary I feel.  The art was beautiful, but very expensive.  I ended up buying a set of chopsticks for my family that were hand carved and decorated with shards of seashells.

Our experience at the tunnels was pretty surreal.  The network of tunnels ran for hundreds of meters, with everything from hospitals to dining halls built throughout.  As many as 3000 people lived in the Cu Chi Tunnels at one time.  The tunnels provided protection for citizens, as well as a means to perform surprise attacks on American soldiers as the Viet Cong popped up from hidden ground entrances.  We viewed a model of the tunnels and saw how the tunnels were built with many traps to keep out small American soldiers.  The first line of defense was the sheer size of the entrances.  I am about 5’8’’, 155 lbs. and I was far too big to fit into the original entrances.  The average size of the Viet Cong men was around 95 lbs.  The women rarely weighed more than 70 lbs.  One huge disadvantage of the tunnels though was the reliance on air supply sources. Vents, often disguised as termite mounds were very vulnerable to poison gas canisters, and one attack was said to have killed as many as 1000 people in the Cu Chi Tunnels. 

It was pretty surreal; walking through the jungle, hearing a woman plainly described how they killed American soldiers.  She showed us many different kinds of traps used, as well as several entrances that she invited us to attempt entering through.  One other aspect that made things eerie was the fact that there was a firing range for all the guns used in the war nearby.  Walking through dense parts of the jungle with constant machine gun fire ringing through the trees made things pretty real for a little bit.  We ended up entering through an entrance that was widened for tourists and toured through the tunnels which were no taller than 3 feet at their highest point.  They were also incredibly stuffy, so we were all dripping sweat by the time we came out near the firing range.  Afterwards, I was the only one in the group who felt the need to shoot at the firing range, but I am very glad I did it.  It was $10 American for a full clip which was 15 bullets.  The targets were about a foot and a half tall and 6 inches wide, located 100 yards away.  I was pretty proud to get 7 targets, but I am sure I would have not hit anything at all if I had anyone firing back at me.  I also could not hear out of my right ear for 24 hours after that, so I could not imagine men having to fire those M-16’s for a year in the jungle.  In fact, simply living in those jungles for a year, with that humidity, with constant attacks would have been hell on earth.  It was an eye opening experience.

We got back to the ship at around 6, and showered before going to a restaurant that our guide had recommended.  The place ended up being incredibly popular, but with locals only, so we knew we hit the jackpot.  The food was incredible, and my entrée with three beers and an appetizer was only 90,000 dong, or $6.50.  I am still working on my chopstick skills, but it is still a work in progress.  We visited a local Buddhist temple on the way home and got back to the town center by 9:30.  We all wanted to relax and have a beer or two, but we are cheap students and did not want to go to the ritzy bar that everyone else went to.  The one we ended up at had 8 cent beers, which was amazing. 

Afterwards, we broke our first tourist rule and hopped on to motorcycles with the locals and went to a club called Apocalypse Now.  Well it took me three minutes to realize that a beer was $7, and I was not interested in the club scene anyways, so I walked by myself, down the street until I found a local bar.  I spent the rest of the night with several local guys, discussing everything from the local labor wages, to their resentment for North Vietnam, and the manner in which their high taxes provide for their barely existent economy.  I also found out that I made a great move in not staying at that club, as it was the prostitution hub for Saigon.  That would have surely been creepy. I only went back to the front of the club 2 hours later in order to split a cab home with a few people. 

The next day, I left with Henry Bennett and Liz Elliott for a three day, two night trip on the Mekong Delta.  This was the only trip that I planned through the ship’s travel agency, and I only agreed to go after being convinced to come along by Liz and Henry.  The group was only 20 people large, and was reasonably priced for the things described in the itinerary.  Upon getting on the bus, I quickly noticed that Henry and I were the only guys on the trip, and that I did not recognize a single girl other than Liz.  I ended up sitting myself down in the back with the large group of girls right away in order to try to meet everyone early.  Henry and Liz are dating, and I did not have any interest in being their third wheel for the entire trip, so getting every introduction done early was a great idea.  Five of the girls were from a small school in Connecticut and I ended up doing a large portion of the trip with them.

Our bus ride took around 2 hours and we ended up on the banks of the river, boarding small boats that greatly resembled the boats we used in Thailand, except their engines were not nearly as intense.  We had a tour throughout the main part of the river before driving through one of the floating markets.  The coasts are lined with shacks built on stilts, but those who cannot afford a house on the land have to buy one of these large houseboats that fill the river.  They resembled large wooden barges, with cabins on the rear.  They all have eyes painted on the front as well in order to scare off crocodiles.  It is these boats that make up the floating market and exist by the hundreds in coves every morning.  Each boat sells a fruit or vegetable, and has one of their products hanging from a tall bamboo pole so that people can see what they are selling from far away.  If there is a hat hanging from the top of the pole, then that means the family is selling their boat.  I asked how much one of the large ones would cost, and our guide, who was incredibly friendly, told me that they cost around $3500 each.  After the floating market, we visited a local factory that makes rice paper candy, as well as many other rice products.  It is unbelievable how many uses they have found for rice.  We saw them use the shells as fire kindling.  They can make paper from the fibers.  The candy, which is also made from coconut, tastes like some of the best taffy in the world.  They even found a way to pop rice like popcorn which was pretty unbelievable.  At one point, Henry and I even took shots of rice wine and rice whiskey which was one of the harshest shots of my life.  Unfortunately, we could not say no because the man offering them looked like Mr. Miaguie from the “Karate Kid.”

Afterwards, we drove to the opposite bank and got on bicycles.  Most of the group stayed behind at the restaurant, but Henry, Liz, and I decided that a bike ride through the Vietnamese countryside could not be passed up, regardless of the heat and rickety bicycles.  Well our 90 lbs. Vietnamese woman tour guide ended up having the endurance of Lance Armstrong and took us on an intense hour and a half ride through the jungle and villages.  We only stopped once to fix Liz’s bike.  It was actually at this stop when this little old Vietnamese man walked up to me, stopped about 6 inches from my face, and just stared at me.  He looked like he was using every ounce of his strength to try to tell me something, but he could not figure out how for the life of him.  He spoke in Vietnamese several times, but he did not speak a word of English and our guide had ridden ahead of us.  Henry actually got a great, candid picture of us that I will have to title “Language Barrier.”  By the time we got back to the restaurant, my shirt was drenched in sweat and Liz had fallen off her bike 3 times.  Our male guide had a beer waiting for Henry and I, and a 10 minute break in a hammock with a beer was definitely worth a Kodak moment.  We walked back to the river and met with several young ladies on row boats.  The three of us put on our rice hats, and had a nice ride down the narrow channels before meeting our boat on the other side.  Henry and I had rice hats with pink ribbons, so I am sure we were blending in with the locals. 

After the cruise, we drove to a home where we were to spend the night.  The house belonged to a local family by the last name of Thoa and was on stilts hanging over the water.  It was a beautiful place, but definitely an authentic experience as they had 2 extra rooms with some cots under mosquito nets and a porch with hammocks that hung almost over the water.  For the rest of the night, we were free to spend time with the family or to wander around the area.  I spent my time just getting to know the family some and relaxing in the hammocks.  For dinner, they actually brought some of us into their kitchen and taught us how they made their spring rolls before having us finish all the rolling for them.  The food turned out unbelievable and the spring rolls were some of the best spring rolls that I have ever had.  The main course was interesting.  It was a whole, fried fish propped between crossing chopsticks.  The way you ate it was by picking off some of the meat.  Then you place the meat on a piece of rice paper with some lettuce and vegetables.  Finally, you roll the rice paper and eat it like a burrito.  I was freaked out at first by the whole fish, but it ended up being delicious.  They call the fish an elephant eared fish because it has large side fins that flap slowly as it swims, so it looks like it has elephant ears. 

After a long dinner, we all retired to the porch for the rest of the night where I taught Henry and two other girls how to play euchre.  We ended up playing cards in hammocks until about 1 in the morning. out there on a porch on stilts, hanging over the Mekong River.  I even had a playlist of classic rock songs from the Vietnam era on my IPod that I was able to hook up to my speakers for the night.  It was pretty surreal, playing cards in the middle of Vietnam, at one in the morning, with the Rolling Stones and Jimi Hendrix in the background. 

The next morning, we got back onto boats and toured another large floating market, as well as a nearby brick factory, before heading back to a nearby city.  There, we toured some of the outdoor markets that sold everything from vegetables, to hardware supplies, to live seafood that was literally swimming around tanks that stood in front of the stalls.  I saw everything from starfish, to frogs, to tarantulas, to even a small woman with a basket full of live crabs sitting on the side of the road.  If you ever consider eating starfish or tarantula, just go ahead and pass.  It is an interesting story, but there is no surprisingly great taste to be had with either.

Afterwards, we got back onto our bus and went straight to our hotel.  The hotel was incredibly nice, and we quickly found out that this city was considered the safest city in Vietnam, so exploring by oneself was completely fine.  We had about an hour of rest and then got back on the vans for a long ride out to the country-side where we visited a Khmer, Buddhist temple.  The Khmer people, originating in Cambodia and Laos, are the people that founded the Khmer Rouge, famous for their influence in the Vietnam War.  The men of this temple were all full blooded Khmer men.

We got a brief overview of the religion from our guide once we arrived, for none of the monks spoke English.  The men, who choose to become monks, first come to the temple when they are 13.  They spend 7 years studying before deciding whether or not they want to become full Buddhist monks.  If they decide to stay, they wear their orange robes differently, and devote their lives to study.  One distinct difference that I remember between the Vietnamese Buddhists and the Khmers was the way that the monks sought food during their first seven years.  Throughout the rest of the country, one can see a Vietnamese Buddhist monk walking down the street with his head down, bearing a bowl in front of him.  He spends his entire day, essentially begging for food, but he is not to look at anyone, especially those who give to him.  The idea is that those who give to him can bring good fortune upon him or herself, but they choose to on their own accord, rather than giving through guilt.  The fact that the monk does not look at anyone seeks to maintain anonymity in the giving.  Another difference was the way they sought enlightenment.  Khmer monks believe that one has an individual path towards enlightenment, while the Vietnamese monks believe that it can only be reached through helping other people.  The Vietnamese monks feel that once enlightenment is reached, it is their duty to return, and thus enlighten others.  Khmers are much more individualistic.  In their eyes, it is one’s own path, and no one else’s.  On a funnier note, I did learn about how the monks often ate pigeons, but without using any kind of weapon.  They simply spike the bird baths, and when the birds are drunk, they catch them!  The government had considered outlawing the practice, but they have not succeeded in doing so yet.

The temple was absolutely gorgeous, and we spent a good amount of time, walking around the grounds among the monks.  We had some beautiful pictures of the temple, with clothes lines beside it drying dozens of orange robes.  One monk, whom I had a small conversation with, was very shy, but I really wanted to get a picture with him before we left.   When I did ask for a picture with him, he could not have been shyer, but he did agree.  It almost seemed like he was bashful to be getting a picture just because he was a monk, but I appreciated his willingness nonetheless.

If I had to say who I thought the two most powerful groups of religious people were to me personally, it would have to be the Khmer monks and the Hindu yogis.  The monks, simply for their devotion towards their own spiritual discovery, day in and day out.  The yogis on the other hand, give complete and utter devotion to their beliefs, no matter how much strain their lifestyle puts them through.  For an example, many believe so much in the circle of reincarnation, or moksha, that they make sure not to harm anything that has a soul.  They eat all their meals on leaves that are already dead, in order to insure that the soul has left.  In addition, many wear masks to prevent themselves from accidently swallowing any bugs; and when they die, their bodies are burned so that they worms that would have inhabited their corpses do not have to starve to death once the food has been consumed.  It is unbelievable.

After the temple, we went back to the hotel and had an amazing dinner before heading out on our own.  Some of us did karaoke, while others just walked the streets.  It was a very fun night, and I cannot say enough about how generous and welcoming the people of Vietnam are.  On a side note though, do not order a daiquiri in Vietnam, ever.  We were right on the water, and the restaurants drinks were cheap, so I thought a nice vacation drink would be fun.  Well after collaborating with others about their own personal experiences, we all determined that a daiquiri in Vietnam was an incredibly feminine, martini-like drink.  I think every girl on the wait staff was laughing at me as I was served.  I definitely had to switch to beer to regain any kind of masculinity for the rest of the night.

The next morning, we had a wonderful breakfast on the roof of the hotel and headed back to Ho Chi Minh.  I talked to our tour guide some about his wife of 10 days, but the majority of the ride was a chance to catch back up on sleep. 

We got back relatively late, and I was only able to swing by the Ho Chi Minh art museum by myself before everything started to shut down.  I got food on the ship to try to save money, and then met up with some friends who were dying to go to one of the karaoke bars that are everywhere in Vietnam!  We ended up hiring 10 guys with motorcycles to chauffeur us around for the night for about $5 American which was awesome.  We later heard about guys who had crashed on motorcycles, but we were lucky to not have any problems, especially since my driver was flying for most of our trips.  The karaoke bar was hilarious.  Eric from Colorado and I invited some of the drivers up to the stage and ended up singing everything from “I Touch Myself” by the Disvinyls, to “Do You Believe in Life After Love” by Cher.  Once you have that image, add the Vietnamese accents, and I could barely breathe from laughing so hard at the end of each song.  After karaoke, we spent the rest of the night with the local Vietnamese guys, driving to a few different hot spots with them. 

The next morning, everyone seemed to have something different that they wanted to do, so I ended up finding Celeste from USC and we just went out on our own.  We spent the morning trying to buy some pirated DVDs and souvenirs for friends and family before heading to a tailor to pick up the dress she had made.  It turned to be a nightmare for her as the tailor made her dress with the fabric inside out!  I am not sure what they were thinking, but her dress looked furry.  She went crazy and they promised to get it to the ship before we left, but she was definitely stressed since she had already paid for it.

After that whole debacle, we decided that we really needed to go to the Vietnam War Remnants Museum.  We hopped on motorcycles and flew across Saigon.  The museum ended up being one of the more powerful experiences of the voyage.  One has to understand before going that there are two sides to every story, but facts remain on both sides that the other side does not like to mention.  The majority of the exhibits that I had seen prior to the visit had detailed much of the suffering endured by the American Soldiers.  Well the Vietnamese side was much more tragic, once the image of 3 million dead, 2 million of which were civilians.  The museum not only had examples of almost every plane and combat vehicle used, but also all the weapons as well.  In addition, it detailed all the atrocities done by American weapon experiments on rural areas that led to huge casualties among the civilian population.  There was also another part that detailed the affects of agent orange, and the effects that are still being seen today among both the soldiers and the Vietnamese citizens.  The museum tour ended with a replica of the Tiger Pit jails used by the South Vietnamese to torture the North Vietnamese during the war.  Once again, I recognize that there were atrocities done by both sides, but it was interesting to get the Vietnamese side on the issue.  It made it even more unbelievable that they could be so warm and welcoming to us, seeing as their side of the matter was so horrible.  Not to mention, they were being invaded, they were not the aggressors. 

By the time we finally got back to the ship, it was getting pretty late and Celeste was hoping to get her dress delivered before the ship had to set sail.  On ship time was at 8, but once you got on after 6, they would not let you get back off.  Well when we got to the ship at 6:30, they were still letting people off, and said that Celeste could still get back off if she did so before 7.  As a result, Celeste dropped her stuff off in my room, and then headed back to the gangway to wait outside for the tailor. 

Vietnam was one of my favorite ports, and may have been the most culturally enlightening experience of the entire voyage.  I do not think I have experienced as warmer population throughout the entire voyage and would love to return to Vietnam one day.

Thailand:

It is a toss up to what my favorite country was, but Thailand is definitely in the running after having one of the wildest, craziest times of my life in one of the most beautiful countries that I have ever visited.  Prior to getting on the ship, I did spend some time trying to book trips within each country when I knew exactly what I wanted to do when I was there.  The Taj Mahal trip is an example.  Though there wasn’t anything that I was dying to see in Thailand, I decided that Thailand would probably not be a country where I would want to wing it.  My mom definitely agreed, and as a result I almost booked a very expensive trip through the ship’s travel agency to visit Phuket for 3 nights before returning to a night in Bangkok.  Thankfully, the trip ended up filling before I could get my money in, and as a result, Phil copy and pasted the itinerary from the ship’s website into an email that he sent to a reputable travel agency in Thailand.  In the end, the agency was not only able to set up the exact same trip, at the same hotels, but we actually ended up having better tours.  On top of that, our trip cost $500 less than the trip set up through the ship.  We all knew that the trip prices done through the ship were inflated, but I think our trip definitely pissed off a few people.  The agency was incredibly organized, very friendly, and extremely flexible.  In addition, since so many people signed up for the trip, Phil and I got our trips for free, so things could not have gone smoother.  Phil and I were actually given a suite in every hotel as well.

The trip started off with its first bang as soon as we got off the ship in Bangkok.  The port was very industrial, but tour buses were allowed to pull up to the ship so we could see all of the buses as we got off the ship.  The Semester at Sea buses, or SAS buses, were very plain, modest greyhound buses.  They were not anything special and there were about 10 of them.  Our buses on the other hand were two double deck buses with leather seats, speakers lining the walls, and dance music blaring from the doors.  They were amazingly tacky.  Needless to say, we loved them. 

We hopped on the buses and had an hour drive to Bangkok, winding through the roads, passing amazing Thai palaces, until we arrived to a spot along the river.  We got off the buses, and followed our speed walking guide through a crazy outdoor food market before coming upon a dock with a long, narrow boat which we all crowded on to.  These boats were hilarious.  They were practically canoes and all of them had these ridiculous engines on the back made out of car engines that had a drive shaft extending 15 feet behind the boat.  We took a ride down the river, touring the part of Bangkok that looks a lot like Venice before arriving at a riverside restaurant.  I think we were all a little nervous as we pulled up when we saw 4 guys under the dock catching fish with their bare hands.  I am not sure if that was the fish that we ended up eating, but thankfully the food ended up being amazing.  It was an enormous buffet of Thai food with everything from fried wantons, to pad thai, to sushi, and we were all starving so the timing could not have been any better.  After lunch, we hopped back on to our buses and went straight to the Bangkok airport which was unbelievably nice.  Someone said it looked a lot like the Munich airport if anyone reading this knows what that means.  I tried to use the internet but it only worked for a little bit, so Joe and I ended up at the airport bar for the hour that we had to kill before the flight left. 

The flight was really easy and we headed straight to our hotel.  It was around 10 at night, and I do not think anyone knew what to expect when we got to Phuket, but Friday night on Patong Road was an eye opening experience to everyone on the bus, and we had not even gotten off of the bus yet!  Let me try to give my brief explanation of what Phuket is like.  To start out, one of our guidebooks said that, “Phuket makes Amsterdam look like a convent.”  I had my doubts about whether or not that could be possible, but I think it turned out to be true.  First, Phuket is known as the party capital of Southeast Asia.  Secondly, it turns out that Phuket is the transgender capital of the world. That would make things weird enough, but on top of that, prostitution is literally part of the culture in this region of Thailand.  I know its creepy enough just to mention that fact, but when you factor in that it is a common place for middle aged, creepy, business men to visit for a weekend, the creepiness factor sky rockets.  That all being said, there is a lot more to the situation than what you simply see walking down the road.  The situation is much more complicated and is not something that can be completely judged from the beginning without having some understanding of how this culture came to be.  For starters, the concept of sex has a lot less taboo surrounding it in many parts of Southeast Asia.  In fact, if you go back and read Marco Polo’s travel diary, you will even see him making the same observations as he traveled through India and Southeast Asia during the 13^th and 14^th century.(I am taking a class on the ship that compares our observations of each port to the travel diaries of both Ibn Battuta and Marco Polo).  I am in no way approving of the situation, but I have learned that it is important to understand things within other cultures first, rather than simply labeling something and walking away after a first impression.  There are certainly many horrible things going on that I do not think I have the time to completely explain, but rather than simply recount the bones of my experience in Thailand, I felt that it was important to take a moment to explain things that may later be mentioned.  Massage parlors and punter lounges are everywhere, and it is very common to see an overweight, middle-aged American man walking down the street with a very young Thai women.  We also saw plenty of “women”, with larger arms than me on just the drive to our hotel alone.  Ugly explanation over, I can move on.

We got to our hotel, the Duangjitt Resort at around 9:30, and were very surprised to see that it was a beautiful resort located in the middle of all the action, yet still 80 yards from one of the most beautiful beaches that I have ever seen.  The tour agency was incredibly organized and Phil and I got our suite in no time at all.  The room ended up being beautiful and had a day bed which could not have worked out better.  Our friend Barney really wanted to come along, but could not afford the trip, so he planned to follow us and hoped to find a cheap hotel nearby.  Well since we had the day bed, we just called him up to crash on it.  In return, he just paid for a couple of meals and he ended up saving a lot of money.  On top of that, he is an incredibly fun person to have around, so we were all happy to have him with us.  He was actually able to go on all of our tours as well, seeing as our group of 90 always seemed to have at least one person who was too sick or hung-over to make the tours, so he just took their place.  I am sure a few people would have been annoyed had they found out what he was doing, but Phil and I got our trips for free, and organized it, so we just kept quiet about it.  We went out on the town that night and ended up in a foam party that last until about 2 in the morning.  If you do not know what a foam party is, it is when a club pumps hundreds of gallons of foam onto the dance floor and surrounding area as lasers pulse through the air.  It was one of the more fun nights of the entire trip.  A random funny story happened there, involving the bathroom attendants.  I was not used to bathroom attendants being everywhere prior to the trip, but they are in almost every country that we have visited.  Thailand was not an exception.  So I went in to the bathroom, and was at a urinal when I suddenly felt someone aggressively massaging my shoulders.  It was the bathroom attendant!  The girls who read this may not understand what goes through a guy’s mind when he is in the bathroom with a man massaging his shoulders, but it is not good.  I flipped out, and the guy just went on to massaging the Thai guy next to me’s shoulders.  He didn’t even flinch!  Just to make sure that I was not weird, I told a friend to go and use the same bathroom that I did.  He ended up walking out with a look on his face that either meant that the guy tried to massage him as well, or that he had seen a dead body.  It could have been either because he was mad at me for telling him to go in and would not talk about his experience.  The rest of the night was fun, but I had to mention that weird story.

The next morning, we woke up at around 5 in the morning and boarded vans containing around 10 people each.  It was around a 2 hour ride, but we had a few stops that allowed us to see some of the aftermath from the Tsunami.  Phuket was one of the most affected cities, though the more developed part shows few scars.  The outer limits, on the other hand, still looked to be recovering a great deal.  We drove through rolling hills of jungle vegetation and limestone cliffs for about an hour, and I swore I was in Jurassic Park.  I was even more convinced once we arrived to a river that flowed through the hills.  We got into kayaks and rowed through the wilderness for nearly 2 hours and I have never been to a place that was so quiet and secluded.  At one point, we found a vine that hung over the river and we stopped for awhile.  We ended up swimming and using the vine as a rope swing.  After the river, we jumped back into the vans and had lunch at a restaurant located deep inside the woods.  I have to imagine that it does not get a lot of business, due to its seclusion, but the food was wonderful.  Our drinks were actually coconuts that they climbed palm trees in front of us to retrieve.

After lunch, we went deeper into Siam and ended up at the Siam Elephant Park.  It is a park located deep in the jungles surrounding the hills, and it is home to nearly 70 elephants that spend most of their days grazing within the parks limits.  I was afraid that we would see awful conditions and chained elephants, but instead I found elephants that seemed almost wild.  Only a few had mats on them, allowing us to ride on top of them.  We ended up climbing the nearby mountain on the backs of the elephants, treading rivers, negotiating huge boulders, and small waterfalls.  The man following Whitney and I even allowed me to ride on “Odd balls” head without any form of support for the entire ride down which was certainly an experience.  By the end, I was so enthralled with the experience that I literally negotiated with one of the rangers for his shirt.  He only had one and it was custom embroidered, so it took awhile, but I have a pretty amazing souvenir as a result.  Twenty American dollars would be a steal for an embroidered polo shirt in the U.S., but one from Siam is even better.

Once we returned to the main camp, Whitney and I bought some bananas to feed Oddball.  They actually had a pet monkey and squirrel there as well that literally climbed all over us, with no fear of humans.  Phil fell in love with the monkey and came pretty close to trying to steal him. 

By the time we finally got home, it was almost 7 p.m. and we were all exhausted.  Fortunately, Phil and I got a red bull to revive ourselves and split up to do different things before meeting up for dinner later.  I went with 5 girls to get a massage at the spa, allowing us to avoid the seedier parlors and ended up paying $15 American for an hour and a half Thai Massage.  Unfortunately, I had never had a massage before and probably should not have chosen a Thai massage to start, but “when in Thailand.”  This 90 lbs. Thai girl literally beat the hell out of me for the entire time.  I think I was sore for 2 days afterwards.

Following the massage, the 6 of us went for a swim in the ocean during the sunset, and walked back to the hotel to meet Phil and the rest of the group for dinner. 

Dinner was the first time that I have ever sweated during a meal due to the amount of spice.  I think the entire restaurant staff thought it was pretty funny.  For the rest of the night, we enjoyed all that Patong Road had to offer.  The streets were littered with everything from carts pulling the Muai Thai fighters who were fighting that night, to men with pet iguanas, to go-go girls, to Irish tourists in the wildest costumes.  It was Mardi Gras on steroids, and it was only a Monday!

The next morning, we woke up at around 6, and headed to a dock in order to board our boats.  In groups of about 20, we split up onto double deck boats and headed out through the hundreds of giants limestone rocks that rise out of the ocean off the coast of Thailand.  It was an unbelievable site to say the least.  We sat on the front of the boat and enjoyed the sun while watching our boat drive through fields of jellyfish, passing cliffs, and bat caves.  Our first stop was the island where a scene from “James Bond: the Man with the Golden Gun” was filmed.  It had a beautiful cove with an amazing rock formation rising from the middle of it.  We spent about an hour exploring the cliffs and swimming before getting back on the boat.  Despite the fact that it was St. Patrick’s Day, I was glad that our boat did not bring alcohol along because the people from the boat that did seemed to be struggling in the hot sun.

After “James Bond Island”, we went to a cove nearby that had an amazing cove inside that was only flooded for 3 hours a day.  We kayaked throughout its many caves for a couple of hours and ended up swimming around the ship for awhile.  It ended up being a pretty fun cliff diving contest with the local guys who were helping us out.  I ended up mustering the courage for a double back flip off the roof of the pilot house on the boat, but the girl with my camera forgot to switch it to video mode.  The people of the islands were incredibly friendly and warm to us throughout the entire experience.  Tourism is the staple of their economy so they are greatly appreciative for any tourist that brings money into their area.  Unfortunately, we had two casualties as one girl was stung by a jelly fish and one guy was bit by a poisonous snake.  The snake was not deadly, but it was poisonous enough to make the guy hallucinate a bit later in the day.  Regardless, he still had a beer in his hand which was kind of funny.  Our last stop was on another little island nearby.  The island had small boats that ferried us to shore, but me and four other guys thought we were tough and could swim it on our own.  Well, it turned out to be a lot further than we thought and we were all exhausted, and feeling dumb by the time we got to shore.  It was near this island were we also able to kayak through an enormous bat cave.  Once inside, there was zero source of lighting except our flashlight, so it was impossible for me to avoid the temptation to use my paddle in the back of the kayak to sprinkle water over the 4 girls riding with me.  They all were disgusted as they left, and confused, because they had “bat dung” raining on them the entire time, and I did not have a drop.  They also could not understand why I was laughing uncontrollably. 

On our way back, we passed dozens of Thai junk boats, and had plenty of time to talk with many of the local men who were riding back to the mainland with us.  They were all incredibly friendly and talked about how much the enjoyed when American tourists came to the area, though they did not get many of them.  In their personal experiences, they had known Americans only to be very generous and curious, which was a pleasant surprise.  Everyone on the boat was very respectful and friendly throughout the entire day, so I think it set a good tone with the locals as well.  We got back to the hotel at around 7 and got dinner before returning to the hotel at around 9. 

You have to understand that it was St. Patrick’s Day.  I am Irish, and had been growing out my bright orange beard for more than a week for this night.  And let me say, I was not growing that beard to attract the ladies.  I do not think it was a good look, but wearing an Irish flag as a cape with a red beard is fun way to go out in Thailand on St. Patty’s Day!

We went to the beach and bought one of the sky lanterns to set off in order to bring good luck to our night.  These lanterns are a Thai tradition and resemble large cloth trash bags.  The anatomy resembles a scale hot air balloon, with a flame replacing the basket.  The hot air sends the lantern into the sky.  I am not sure how these things do not cause problems when they land, but it is and old Thai tradition, so there has to be an explanation to how they extinguish themselves.  After that, we hit up all the local pubs that night, and I am pretty sure I managed to do an Irish jig on a table in every Irish pub.  One bar had an all female, Metallica cover band that was absolutely amazing.  Not many guys can cover Metallica, but this little Thai girl had a growl that rivaled even James Hetfield! 

The only snag of the night came when Brandon and I were dancing down the street with these 10 Irish tourists, and Brandon decided that he had to have a picture hanging from a street sign.  Well, he ended up breaking the sign and I had to negotiate with a police officer in order to have Brandon pay for the sign, rather than having Brandon taken to jail.  Thankfully, I succeeded and we had a great time the rest of the night.  The stories the next morning were priceless.  One of our friends decided to get the label from his beer bottle tattooed on his butt.  That was an interesting souvenir. 

The next morning, we got up very early to head to the airport.  We were all exhausted, and managed to barely make our flight back to Bangkok on time.  Once in Bangkok, we went straight to our hotel and checked in at around 5.  Phil and I explored the city with a couple of friends and ate from the street vendors before meeting the girls at a nice restaurant to celebrate one of their birthdays.  I am very glad we ate with the street vendors because their restaurant was expensive!  That night, we went all around Bangkok.  We had a random route, seeing as our cab driver ended up being a guy borrowing his father’s cab, but it was interesting.

The next morning, we toured the entire city, visiting the Grand Palace and the many canals that wind throughout Bangkok.  I tried to sneak into a group picture with a bunch of Chinese tourists at the palace, but was shooed away.  I still have a pretty funny picture though!  Towards the end, we visited a tiger nursery, but I was feeling pretty awful all day.  I think I got some serious food poisoning and the entire last day, and four following days were pretty rough.  I am not sure what I ate that caused it, but I am actually still recovering to a certain degree.

Thailand was one of the most fun 4 days of my life.  The country is rich in culture and natural beauty.  It also has many eccentricities that make it one of the most unique places that I could ever imagine visiting.

India

To start out, India was one of the most in your face, culturally different, incredible countries that I have ever seen.  I am not sure if I will ever return again as I have seen most of the things I would have wanted to see, but I am glad to say that I have been there. 

From the second we arrived, it was obvious that India was unlike any other country that we had visited thus far.  The crew had lined the doorways and floors with cardboard and linoleum in order to prevent excess grime from getting into the ship as people returned.  On top of that, the smell of India was pretty discernable from about 50 miles off shore, as it is something that I can probably not describe adequately, but I will do my best.  Seeing as every street is filled with street vendors who employ some of the most exotic spices known to man, the people literally go to the bathroom where they want, and the Ganges has 4000x the level of feces in it that the CDC considers to be safe to swim in (actually a fact), The country smells like human wastes, spicy curry, and pollution wherever you go.  I am not trying to be culturally insensitive or the ugly American.  I am just trying to describe it how it is.  You do get kind of used to it after a day or two, but there are no doubt pockets at certain streets corners that may be the worst smells that one can ever endure.  I can only imagine what being hung-over in India would be like.  The 100 degree temperatures combined with the smells would probably be ridiculous.  

That being said, we got off the ship in Chennai at around 10 and got on buses to head straight to the Chennai airport in order to board our flight to New Delhi, the capital.  It was about 102 degrees out with around 70% humidity, it was great.  A lot of our pre-port discussions talked about how entering the cities for the first times is one of the most intense sensory overloads that one can experience, but we were all a bit jaded in at least our first stretch to the airport as we sat in our air conditioned buses.  It did not take long though for things to kick into high gear though after we got the Chennai’s airport, which was a lot nicer than expected, and landed in New Delhi.  The flight was pretty interesting in itself, as I had some of the best Indian food of the trip on the airline.  They actually prepare it on the plane and it got me pretty excited.  The only sketchy part about the Indian airplanes was the landings.  I don’t know if they have rougher runways or more rickety planes, but for some reason, every time our plane landed in India, I was pretty sure the entire plane was going to explode from how much it shook as we landed.  I am alive still, which is nice, but it did make things more exciting.

We booked it out of the airport only to get our first real waves of the sights and smells of India.  The streets were packed with rickshaws, which are these 3 wheeled, golf cart-looking things with roofs that literally fly all over town.  Crossing the road is literally like playing Frogger every time.   We hopped on some buses and headed to a Hindu temple that was on our way to the hotel.  The temple was in the name of Shiva, and was an interesting introduction to the religion, as we all had to walk around the marble structure barefooted.  Many of the girls got dots, or bindis, on their heads.  We were not there very long though and were headed to our hotel after only an hour.

 The hotel was actually pretty nice, and since Phil and I offered to take a third roommate to deal with the groups issue with odd numbers, we ended up getting the suite in every hotel for the entire trip for the exact same price.  I had no clue that that would happen, but it was a nice little surprise.  All of us were pretty exhausted from a day of traveling, so it was a huge relief to find out that there was a good, traditional Indian restaurant on the roof of our hotel that let you sit in the open air.  The views were absolutely gorgeous and the staff was very friendly, despite a major language barrier.  Thankfully I was able to point to the menu and say spicy, and the waiter understood the word spicy enough to order something for me on his own recommendation.  We all tried to order a beer, but after the first one, some of us were pretty sketched out.  As one can guess, alcohol is not a very common thing in an Indian country, so the beer they brought out looked like it was decades old.  They reminded me of those O’Douls that everyone has in the back of their refrigerators that they bought 3 years ago for a pregnant friend and the leftovers were never touched.  The food ended up being amazing, despite the fact that I thought my face was melting while I was talking.  I literally had sweat pouring down my face.  Toward the end of dinner, everyone decided to go to bed, but Phil and I noticed fireworks coming sporadically from inside the city and the idea of finding their source in a radically foreign country at 12 a.m. seemed like an interesting idea at the time.  We got 3 girls to come with us and headed out.  The walk there had some pretty priceless pictures as Phil and I managed to board a city bus that was beached in the road and started our first dance party of the night with a girl’s I-phone.  Once we got to the fireworks, it turned out to be an enormous Indian wedding!  Wedding Crashers Indian Edition took place immediately and Phil and I headed in only to be welcomed with open arms by the entire party, including the bride and groom.  (The wedding later turned out to be the wedding of a famous Bollywood couple, so it was the Brangelina of New Delhi.  Taking that into account, I am not sure if they would have normally been so welcoming, or if they just assumed that any Americans bold enough to crash such a party had to be famous).  The five of us ended up riding elephants through the ceremony and ended the ride in the middle of a giant drum circle.  We spent about an hour dancing with the people, praying that “Shout” would come on, before being suddenly asked to leave.  I am pretty sure one of the girls danced with the wrong guy because there seemed to be some emotion directed towards them by a few people, but the overall experience was wonderful.  I convinced the rickshaw driver to let me drive home and we were all pretty relieved to have a nice bed to crash on to.  I know my dad probably read this and was not shocked at all.

The next morning, we got up pretty early and headed to India Gate, located in a really large park near the center of Delhi. It commemorates the soldiers who died in World War I and has an eternal flame under its arch.  It reminded me a lot of a red Arc de Triumph.  Vendors were all around and several people were sun bathing in a park nearby, including the darkest man I have ever seen with a white beard that went to his knees.  Yes, we got pictures with him, and yes he gave me his e-mail to send them to him.  Finally, yes, I will put you on the Indian naughty list if you want.  Afterwards, we went to the Qutub Minaret which is a 250 ft. tall brick minaret which was the tallest skyscraper in the world when it was completed in 1368.  We had awhile to explore on our own there and were able to enjoy the incredible ruins that surrounded the minaret on every side.  It reminded me a lot of the ruins outside of the coliseum in Rome, except all of the stones were red.  From there, we went and had a quick lunch and began heading to Agra.  The trip was a 4 hour hike on the bumpiest roads known to man, so sleeping was almost impossible.  Thankfully, I got very lucky again in having an incredibly fun group of people on the bus with me, so the time went by relatively fast.  When we got to Agra, a lot of us grabbed a quick bite to eat, and then some of us went to the markets nearby.  I did not want to have a huge bag on the trip, and on top of that, I did not want to bring any clothes that I wanted to keep due to the fact that I heard a lot of people ruin their clothes in India.  As a result, I packed one outfit and ended up buying 3 more there for $20 dollars in total.  Granted, the pair of shoes that I bought were straight out of Aladdin with the curl on the ends and everything, but they were pretty sweet after I put my gel insoles in them.  Afterwards, we met up with friends on the top of the hotel in a rotating restaurant and sampled of the local chaat, or Indian tapas for an hour before heading to bed.  Phil and I would have gone looking for another adventure but the streets of Agra proved to be a little unsettling at night.  Which if you have gotten an indication on what Phil and I consider to be an unsettling situation, you would know that it was pretty sketchy. 

The next morning, we woke up at five and headed outside to meet the group.  Amazingly, there were about 60 horses with carts waiting for us to take us to the Taj Mahal in order to see it at sunrise.  The videos of 60 horses and carriages charging down the road of Agra are pretty interesting.  Upon arriving to an area near the Taj Mahal, we got out of the carriages to get our first real taste of the true poverty that strikes certain parts of the country.  In fact, it was very ironic that one of the richest symbols of ancient culture in the world was surrounded by things that I could never imagine.  I am actually hesitant to even describe the conditions, but for the sake of relating my experience, I will go ahead.  The roads are all paved to a certain degree but there is a layer of filth that lies over just about everything which makes the road almost seemed to resemble dirt.  People relieve themselves anywhere they want, and it is not uncommon to see 3 men in suits peeing off a curb as you drive by.  There are even public toilets that look like stalls with 3 foot walls that are on the side of the road that people use; allowing anyone driving by to see all of the people doing their business.  In addition to the grime, there is a culture of begging in India that I have not experience anywhere else in the world.  In all of the poorer countries that I have visited, and or done mission work, such as Honduras, Juarez, Mexico, Namibia, Morocco, South Africa; I have never experienced a country where everyone expected to be paid for everything.  The bathroom attendants want to be paid for simply unlocking a stall. Young kids want money for having their picture taken.  Other people want money for simply giving quick directions.  The most unfortunate result of this was the fact that, in the end, I feel like I did not seize the one or two legit conversations I was afforded with a local person because of my trained response to normal acts of kindness.  In hindsight, I think one man simply wanted to talk to me, but 20 minutes earlier I had to deal with a man who acted like he wanted to show me a nice restaurant only to ask for a commission on our meals from the owner.

Having prefaced the begging culture a bit, I feel like I can get back to the area outside of the Taj Mahal.  Many families rely on begging as a means of making a living.  They have as many children as possible in order to increase their cash flow.  That being said, it is understood throughout the culture that a disabled child makes more money from begging than a healthy child.  As a result, a great number of families permanently maim their child at a young age.  It is horrible.  When I saw the movie Slumdog Millionaire, I was really disturbed by a scene that depicted a man who had taken in orphans blinded his children in order to make them better beggars.  I thought that the scene was a gross exaggeration, but in the end, I think many of the kids that I saw would have preferred to have been simply blind.  Many had broken legs that had atrophied to sticks after years without use.  The one that will probably haunt me the most from the Taj Mahal was a man who had had both arms and legs completely broken and set in the opposite direction.  He literally had to walk on his elbows, hands, and shins, and even had to keep a pair of sandals on his hands.  Furthermore, you could tell that he had been this way his entire life.  I cannot fathom a parent that would want their children to live out their life in such a way.  I found that I had a lot of moral dilemmas about these beggars for most of the trip.  The vast majority of them worked for a thug who took all of their earnings and barely kept them life.  If their provider was family, the situation was still similar.  As a result, when I could I made a point to buy a round of drinks and snacks for a group of them when possible in order to assure myself that if anything, they were getting my money for their sole enjoyment, not the enjoyment of the person who made them the way they were.  The 100 meter walk from the road to the entrance was exhausting as these images surrounded you while you were being grabbed from every direction by vendors trying to sell you everything one could imagine.  It was weird; almost every vendor in India sold the same 30 things and told you it was handmade.  Later, we found out there were factories that distributed these sorts of trinkets. 

Once inside the Taj Mahal, the realization that I was standing in front of one of the greatest wonders of the world at sunrise was one of the more surreal moments of the day.  The incredible thing is that I have more surreal moments from the last 2 months than I expected to have in my life.  From the front of the reflection pond, the Taj Mahal still looks like nothing more than a fake backdrop.  Between its enormous size and awe inspiring appearance, it is hard to believe you are there even when it is 100 feet in front of you.  We got several great pictures with friends and ended up touring the grounds before entering the Taj Mahal itself.  The inside is incredibly intricate, but you walk out pretty quickly after walking in.  The back porch looks over a river bed with kids playing cricket and the Agra Fort in the distance.

The Taj Mahal has long been called the greatest monument ever built to love, and it is incredible to imagine how much Shah Jahan must have loved his wife Mumtaz to build such a structure in a time where technology should have never permitted the construction of something so intricate, symmetrical, and structurally sound.

For the rest of the morning, we lounged around the ground with friends.  Most of the girls had on Sari’s by this point and Phil of course looked ridiculous in his newly acquired turban.  I may or may not have had on Aladdin shoes.  Before leaving, Phil and I had a screaming match with a couple of monkeys.  I am pretty sure we won, but I think we got the monkey equivalent of the finger. 

After the Taj Mahal, we hopped on another bus, went straight to the Agra Fort, which was not too far away.  We pulled up right in front of the bridge that crossed the mote, but there must have literally been over a hundred people holding trinkets to sell in between us and the fort.  In total, I think I did close to 5 spin moves, 6 stiff arms, a swim move, 2 Heismans, and a hurdle in order to make it to the entrance.  I did refrain from spiking Phil’s turban in celebration though, which I am sure he appreciated.  The fort ended up being pretty incredible with ramps for the entering elephants, and beautiful gardens in every courtyard.  Tyler had an awkward amount of questions about the kings 300 concubines that once lived in the fort, but was finally silence after being told of the minaret’s purpose as being the King’s “love chamber.”  As you can imagine, there are some very mature pictures here.  That might also explain the killer bees that freaked out on the 10 of us.  I actually have a video of 4 friends literally running in circles.  Dear dad, insert joke here.  On our way out we came across a family of monkeys that seemed to not even notice us staring at them from about a foot away.  My parents have called me “the monkey” for years, so I got some pictures with my brethren.

After the fort, we got on the bus and began a long, 8 hour ride to Jaipur on another very bumpy road.  We stopped halfway to play with monkeys and play drums with some locals, and didn’t end up arriving to Jaipur until around 11.  To our surprise, the area around the hotel was having a festival of colors that night and we ended up having a crazy night throwing giant handfuls of different colored powder at each other in the streets.  I think everyone lost an outfit that night, but it could not have been more fun.  Some of the girls had some pink and red in their hair for the next couple of days as well. 

The next morning, we had an early departure time and several people did not wake up, but I could not have been happier with my decision to avoid the snooze button.  We ended up heading to the Amber Fort, which is located in a valley, surrounded by mountains.  Blending both Muslim and Hindu architecture, it is located on top of a steep hill that would not have been fun to walk up.  Thankfully, a girl named Natalie from UVA and I hopped on an elephant and rode up the long hill the fort’s entrance.  Once inside the gates, drums played from every corner of the fort and it felt like we’re literally stepping back in time as we road elephants in a mountain fort with battle drums playing.  We toured the fort for an hour and hiked back down to the buses, but not before one more adventure with a snake charmer.  Phil tried to get a little too close to the cobra and actually ended up having to run for his life before it stopped chasing him.  The peddlers were there as well, following us with their trinkets.  I thought for a good 10 minutes about what could possibly get them so uncomfortable as to finally leave us alone.  So I thought about what I could say that would freak out most Americans if a stranger randomly turned to them said.  Finally, I turned to the guy who would not leave me and said, “Excuse me, but I would like to talk to you about Jesus.”  I am not kidding; he literally booked it back to the people 50 yards back.  I was in tears laughing.  I cannot believe that worked.

Back on the bus, a magician came on as we waited for everyone else. I was pretty skeptical but the guy ended up doing things that’s I could never explain.  The trick that I still cannot believe occurred after he had been talking for a 5 minutes, with no distortion in his voice when he literally opened his mouth and pulled out 3 lead balls, slightly larger than golf balls.  I thought it was a slight of hand thing but he never used his hands and spit all three out as they came up his throat.  It was unreal.

We headed back, stopping by the city palace, as well as the lake palace, before taking some time to shop in the bazaars.  I learned in Morocco how to be a little bit of a jerk during the bargaining process and ended up getting things for my both my mom and sister for pretty unbelievable prices.  I was also starving by this point and got some kebabs from the local vendors with the girls I was shopping with.  There is a really funny picture of my eating a chicken kebab while having a stare off with some cows walking by.  I think I am going to send it to Chik-Fil-A.  One thing about the area around the food vendors was that it was a virtual Noah’s ark of feral animals.  In this small courtyard there were maybe 5 camels, 10 cows, 500 pigeons, 20 goats, and 2 random pigs.  All of them were just walking around. There was also a great deal of the maimed children that I mentioned before.  The worst case was a boy who looked like he’d had his legs broken at the pelvis, because he walked almost like a spider.  I avoided taking pictures of any of these children, especially when I was with them.  I did not feel like I needed to make my own Sally Struthers commercial and thought it would be pretty disrespectful.  I ended up buying a round of drinks and food, but it was here that I think I almost got myself into some serious trouble.  Several guys with “handmade” bracelets surrounded me and one ended up backhanding one of the children for bumping into him.  Without thinking, I got into the guy’s face about it only to realize that I had just gotten into a guy’s face while I was surrounded by all of his buddies.  If it had not been for our big tour guide stepping in yelling, I might have had a slightly more extreme learning experience. 

We got back late into the afternoon after shopping a little more and visiting the Hawa Mahal.  I actually made it to one more bazaar with one of the couples who came on the voyage together, and had a mini adventure when our rickshaw driver decided to inform us that he had two wives, one to keep him happy and one to keep his parents happy.  One is Christian and the other is Muslim.  He went further to inform us that he could somehow sense that his living situation offended us and that he assumed things were already awkward to start since he was Pakistani and he believed that all Americans hate people from Pakistan.  I am not sure if he was just jerking our chain, or if that really was one of the more bazaar/awkward car rides of my life.

Everyone was pretty exhausted, but the USC kids stuck true to the sleep deprivation motto and ended up having my first American meal of the voyage.  I loved the Indian food, but there came a point where Pizza Hut practically looked like the second coming and I could not avoid it.  Afterwards, we asked a local for a recommendation for a good hookah bar and ended up at a place called Club Kooba on the south side.  It was a perfect night as the place ended up being a gorgeous bar on the top of a building.  It was essentially a big porch with a lot of couches and hookahs, so we had a very relaxing night.  Good local music, cheap beer, amazing hookahs and fresh air made for an amazing night.  One of the hookahs actually had a mix of mint and strawberry tobacco with 7-UP in the bubbler and it tasted wonderful.

The next morning was an early one.  Our flight back home was one of the more bizarre experiences that I have had on a plane as we had 2 stops before reaching our destination and did not get off the plane for either.  It was like we were on a flying bus stopping at different stations.  People got off and on, but we never left our seats.  The last day in Chennai was pretty much a shopping day for everyone, as we got back pretty late and some of us did not want to worry about getting our souvenirs through the airports.

Overall, India was an intense experience but I am glad that I had it.  I am not sure if I will ever return to India, but nothing is impossible.

Namibia:

To start out, I had almost no idea of what to expect when we arrived to Namibia in terms of culture. I knew that it is one of the youngest countries in the world, with an average age of around 20 years old. I also knew that a quarter of the population was infected with AIDs, contributing greatly to a significantly low average life span. Our pre-port meetings do a good job of catching everyone up on the history of each country, as well as a lot of the statistical information, but there is no real substitute for personal experience. I knew that the Germans had colonized the country prior to South Africa taking control, but it was not until I really began talking to the local people did I realize all of the hardships they had faced from not only a brutal German government, but also the apartheid movement that had spilled over from South Africa. They have only been independent since 1996, and as a result are still working to build a lot of their own political infrastructure. They even still accept the South Africa Rand at a one to one exchange rate anywhere throughout the country.

A small prologue aside, we arrived in Walvis Bay, Namibia pretty early in the morning, and had the American Consulate General board our ship for a logistical overview of the country’s current situation, as well as information on safety. In my opinion, the program has been pretty consistent in over exaggerating the danger of each port. Nevertheless, I understand that they have the responsibility to keep 700 students safe and an increased level of carefulness will not hurt anyone. The people from the embassy always seem to be a lot less concerned about the safety of the area than the ship faculty. On a side note, we did learn that our ship would account for 20% of their American tourism for the entire year. The port was very industrial, but we could see the dunes from the top deck. The dunes in Namibia are the tallest in the world, and several people on the ship spent a day of the trip actually dune surfing on snowboards. I have to admit that I was pretty jealous, but it is hard to complain when your alternative is going to Etosha National Park for a safari. On top of that, later accounts of dune boarding were very quick to point out that sand is a lot harder than snow and all of the people who did not have much experience snowboarding found themselves falling hard and often.

As we got off the ship, there was a choir of local girls singing tribal songs. They were all between the ages of 4 and 12, and it was a great welcoming to a country rich in ancient traditions. After all, this was the land of the Bantu and the Khosian people, famous for their clicking language, who have existed in the region for around 120,000 years. The girls sang for a good hour or so and spent the rest of the day having lunch, touring the ship, and playing in the ship’s pool while everyone else disembarked to numerous destinations. The buses for our Safari were waiting nearby, and we all piled in, marveling on the design of the buses. They sat about 20 people and somehow had stadium style seating, with the aisle way at an incline. The roof popped open, and the walls were lined with windows and speakers.  I feel like our group got very lucky in that we not only managed to end up with a very random, but extroverted group of students on our bus but also young, energetic guides that really enjoyed talking to us.   Since the group of students going was so large, all the buses acted as their own individual group since coordinating 12 buses would have been impossible.

As we departed, we soon found out that the bus ride that was said to take only 4 hours, was more like 8 and a half hours, so we all made sure to get to know each other very fast. Phil and I managed to rig his large headphones to the PA system’s microphone with hair ties and spent the rest of the trip listening to everything from the Lion King soundtrack to Journey as we drove through some of the most beautiful landscape that I had ever seen. It was amazing to me how it changed so drastically from place to place. At one point the ocean was on our left, with waves crashing into the rocks and seals swimming everywhere. At the same time, on our right we could see dunes that were hundreds of feet tall, forming a desert that seemed to go on forever. Only an hour later, we were in the middle of green hills with red clay dirt, passing baboons on the side of the road. When we finally arrived, it was around midnight, it was pouring rain, and our camp was in the middle of the park. Though there were cottages for rent, we stayed in tents which were an interesting adventure in themselves.   Phil and I were the only two people in our group who had any camping experience and our guides were not moving very fast in their efforts to put up 10 tents in a torrential downpour. As a result, Phil and I got working on setting them up with no instructions at all, ankle deep in water and mud. By the time we finished, we were absolutely starving and completely soaked. Our guides made a local dish for us under a shelter that consisted of couscous, ground lamb, tomatoes, onions, and several spices that they dashed in without naming. Needless to say, we ate and most of the group passed out very quickly, but not all of us went straight to bed. Past students have commented to some of us that if you are capable of doing so, try as hard as possible to limit sleeping in port. As a result, some of us have really taken that to heart and have made sure to enjoy every minute of each port. I would guess that I have slept no more than 4-5 hours on any given night in port. That being said, about 6 of us learned that there was actually a pool nearby, and despite the rain, we decided that getting even more wet would not be an issue. We swam for quite a while and had our first experience with the jackals that manage to make it through the park’s fences and wander around freely. Four of them literally walked up to the pool, stared at us, and then just walked away as if they were simply curious to why they humans wanted to get more wet. They were only about the size of a fox, so they were not a real threat, but it amazed me how little fear they seemed to have for humans. Unfortunately, Phil and I did not really pay attention to the tent that we had chosen to sleep in after returning from swimming. We realized the next morning that the random tent that we had chosen was one that we did not put up and the rain tarp had been put under the tent, rather than on top of it. There is nothing that quite says good morning like waking up in a sleeping bag that is already a steam room from your wet clothes, inside a tent that is filled with water and steaming in the African sun, on muddy ground. Thankfully, the showers did have hot water which did wonders for the both of us. We left early in the morning for the safari and were lucky to start seeing some interesting animals very early in the drive. Sadly, we were there in the wet season, so a lot of the animals had migrated, but we managed to see lions, giraffes, zebras by the herds, wildebeests, antelope, oryx, wild boars, ostriches, and thousands of these small deer-like animals called springbok. One group was even lucky enough to see a group of cheetahs hunting very near the road. Our driver has not seen a cheetah for eight years and kept joking that if it had been our group that had seen them, we would have needed to find another driver because he would be way too drunk from celebrating.

That night, we returned back to the camp at around 7, and had a lot of time to talk to our guides about the area, as well as their tribes. They cooked an unbelievable meal over the fire which consisted of lamb, rice, and this meat sauce. Afterwards, they had a beer with us around the campfire and simply talked about the park and how the country was looking to make a mark by developing a large ecotourism industry. Later, I actually got one of the guides to talk a little about apartheid with me, but it is not a topic that everyone is willing to speak on. Despite the end of the movement, many people are still uneasy about talking about the subject, especially with a white person. What I did get out of him was how hard it was feeling like a second class human for so many years and how things are so much better now that they can find work. One thing he mentioned that struck me as obvious, yet I had not considered it until then, was the lack of education that the current adult generations had missed out on during the apartheid years. The guide, whose name was Uzbe, had a lot of regret for not being able to pursue education. I wanted to talk some about the issues surrounding the AIDs epidemic, but after doing a lot of research prior to arrival, I came to the conclusion that it was not a topic that could be brought up with just anyone. There is a lot of stigmas surrounding the disease throughout Africa, and many people fear even being overheard talking about the issue.

Another interesting conversation I had that night occurred later when I met a pilot who was staying at the camp, waiting to fly a family back to town after their safari. He was from South Africa and very articulate, so I was very curious to what he was doing working in Namibia as a private pilot. He went on to talk about how the end of Apartheid had many positive consequences, but at the same time, it led to a lot of hardship for white men looking to continue their normal life in South Africa. He described the situation as reversed racism and talked a lot about how many of his friends found that after the movement ended, they could not find work anywhere, as there was a lot of resentment for people of his color. As a result, many families found that they had to move to Namibia in order to simply make a living. Having both sides, from two completely different people was one of the highlights of my entire time in Namibia. It really reminded me that there are always several different views to take into account when evaluating such complex situations and that things are never black and white anymore.

Seeing as there was little to do in the camp, other than socialize, we spent the rest of that night playing games and meeting people in other groups who we had not yet met on the ship. We woke up early the next morning in order to make the drive back to the ship with a safe amount of time. Upon arrival back at the ship, several of us went to the nearby market to look into purchasing some of the local wood carvings that the area was known for. One of funnier stories occurred here, when one of our friends was bartering for two masks. The locals loved our clothes, and the fact that they were simply from America, made them even more interested. That being said, it took me a second to realize later why our friend was waiting in line to board the ship with nothing but his boxers on and two wooded masks. It turned out; the artist loved his shirt and jeans, so Chris traded his shirt and pants, along with a few Rand for both masks. You had to hand it to the guy. He took bartering to the extreme.

Everyone left Namibia wishing that we had a little more time to spend there. I would like to think I will return someday, but you never know. It was my first time experiencing what a real African country felt like, and having a personal account of life in a place so ravaged by AIDs has given me a human face to the epidemic that I had only read news accounts of before.

Morocco:
Sorry this took a little longer to get up, I was swamped with work when I got back on the ship and then had some internet issues, but everything is calmed down now finally. Morocco was one of the more interesting places that I have ever been. Before Morocco, I had never been somewhere where almost every aspect of the culture was alien to me. From the food, to the way literally everything is bargained for; all the way to the way people dressed were things that I had never experienced. We docked in Casablanca and made our way straight to Marrakesh. With the exception of the mosque which is the second largest mosque in the world, I have very little good to say about Casablanca. I watched the movie and thought it was going to be a place where I wanted to spend a lot of time, but soon found out that it was nothing more than a concrete, run down, dirty city, with very little culture, and very grumpy cab drivers. That being said, we still went to Rick’s café, but there were plenty of students who were turned away because the management said that at the moment, “There were too many Americans inside already.” After Rick’s, we decided to walk to the train station and luckily found a very nice police officer who actually chauffeured us there. We later found out that our mile long walk would have only been a 2 dollar cab ride, but at least we can say we saw our way around Casablanca for a little while. We stood out like sore thumbs with Phil and I taking pictures and our group of about 10 girls who all had huge rolling bags, despite only having three days there.
We took the train to Marrakesh, which was about 10 dollars a person and the ride took about 4 hours each way. Thankfully, Phil and I did not waste any time in scouring the train for an empty compartment so that our group did not have to break up into several different ones. The ride itself was actually pretty pleasant on the way there. Phil had us all believing that the bathroom was just a hole in the floor in a tiny room, but I think he was just trying to see how freaked out he could get the girls about it. After awhile, I tried to teach everyone euchre, when this Moroccan man opened our door and asked if he could watch me teach everyone the card game. It wasn’t long before we realized that he not only spoke perfect English, but he was a well connected tour guide in Marrakesh. He could not have been any bigger of a gold mine. We talked the rest of the way about everything from where to eat and where to avoid, Obama, camel riding, and how to bargain for prices in the Souks, or markets. He even set up a tour of the city for some of us, arranging for vans to meet us at the train station. As for Obama, the common theme from the first two countries is that Americans have gained a significant amount of respect since his inauguration.
Once in Marrakesh, some people went with the tour guide, but our group of 13 decided it would probably be a better idea to head straight for our riad, since we had heard that it was not easy to find. When in Marrakesh there are three different options when it comes to sleeping arrangements. You can stay in a hotel, where the rooms are not always clean, and are often far from any of the culture centers. The second option is youth hostels, which are very cheap but not very safe. The third option, and most expensive are riads. Riads are the former mansions of old Moroccan aristocrats that have been converted into very luxurious bed and breakfasts. After doing some research, we found one that had gotten great reviews and it was near the plaza. Unfortunately, it was hard to find. We ended up wandering through the back alleys of Marrakesh for about an hour before we came upon a big wood door down a winding alleyway. We actually had to pay a Moroccan boy to lead us there. The only sign was a four by six inch brass plate on the door with even smaller inscription. Fortunately, the riad ending up being amazing, and a big reason that our experience was so wonderful. It was absolutely beautiful, with a large courtyard and pool in the middle, surrounded by 3 levels of balconies. All of the beds were canopy beds, and the roof was a porch that overlooked the city. The 13 of us rented the entire place out for 2 nights, and the final cost ended up being around $35 per person, including breakfast. Not bad, considering that we were staying in a high end place that was only 2 blocks from the snake charmers, monkeys, food stalls, and story tellers of the Djemaa El-Fna. After settling in, our group was starving, so a local recommended a restaurant called Tajine down the street. The restaurant did not disappoint. The second you walk in, you are struck by the lighting. Every wall and window had textured patterns that allowed crisscrossing patterns of light to cast all over the restaurants. Fountains bubbled and hookahs smoked with shisha tobacco from the bar. The owner was incredibly impressive in a very nice, tailored suit. He led us upstairs to a gorgeous table that was filled with candles, and surrounded by Moroccan couches and pillows. Unfortunately, the main language of Morocco is French, and none of us spoke French so the menu was very confusing. Thankfully, everyone was very eager to try new things so a lot of us just pointed to things hoping that we would like it. Most of us ordered tajines after the owner suggested that they were traditional Moroccan dishes. The food ended up being amazing, and the tajines were like nothing I had ever seen before. They are essentially clay bowls, filled with couscous, vegetables, and meat. Then bowl is then covered with a clay cone and steamed for about a half hour. Everything was very tender and it really allowed the food to show off the ingredients without having to overwhelm everything with spices. At the end of the meal, they brought out mint tea which was one of the highlights of every meal for me. Once again, we had a large meal at one of the nicest restaurants in Marrakesh and the final bill ended up only being around $9 dollars a person. No one could complain about the buying power of the Dirham. The owner even promised to give us 3 free hookahs if we wanted to come back later that night for the belly dancers.
After dinner, we all tried to travel in a group down the alleyways towards the medina, but found out once again that large groups are hard to travel with. Two of the girls wanted to move a little faster in order to look at a shop down the street so I agreed to go with them. Before we knew it, we could not see anyone in our group and just decided to go on our own, assuming that we would run into everyone later back at the riad. We ended up taking a local route and actually had to climb through some scaffolding in order to make it over several large ditches in the road. In the U.S., we are kept several feet away from construction sites, but in Morocco, you just climb through them. After a short walk, a man actually walked alongside us and asked us if we were westerners. He turned out to actually be from Lake Tahoe, California, but was now living in Marrakesh. His story was that he went to Rabat, Morocco on vacation one summer, met a Moroccan girl, married her, and stayed. I can only imagine if my mom got that phone call. I think she would laugh, and then tell me to shut up, and then be reaching for a bottle of wine. Anyhow, he showed us the way to the medina, and we spent the rest of the day exploring. We got pictures with the monkeys who just walk around the medina, and then the girls got attacked by the henna tattoo women and were then asked to pay seconds later. It was amazing. These women would ask them if they wanted a tattoo, and then just go to work. One woman literally had one of the girl’s hand covered in less than 10 seconds, they work that fast. Fortunately, we got out of there quickly and ended the night shopping in the stalls. We actually ran into Phil and everyone else there, only to find Phil playing the goofy American, sporting a fez hat. He would actually wear that fez hat for the rest of the trip in order to look like Apu from Aladdin. After the medina, we headed back to the restaurant around 10 and spent the rest of the night smoking hookah and watching the belly dancing show. Phil, in all his soberness, decided to get up and join them. I’m afraid some of the Moroccans may be scarred forever. We left and looked for beer on the way home, but soon found out that finding beer in a predominantly Muslim country was not an easy task. We ended up just going to bed.
The next morning, we were all down in the courtyard when this little Muslim woman walked out with trays of crepes, homemade jams and marmalade, and coffee. She did this every morning and it was the perfect start to the day. It was very surreal to be sitting in a beautiful Moroccan Riad, with crepes and homemade jam, listening to the Muslim calls for prayer projecting over the city, while smelling the spices from the medina down the street. Afterwards, we decided that we were all dead set on riding camels. We packed into cabs, which is an experience in itself, and told all of the drivers to find camels. Eventually we found some, but we actually lost a cab of people. They ended up having a fun day anyways, but we did not find them again until way later. After the camels, we went and got food and decided to head up to the mountains in order to see some of the Berber villages. We found someone who spoke English and ended up bargaining a deal with two cab drivers to take us one the 2 hour drive into the mountains and back for about 18 dollars a person. The ride was absolutely gorgeous, and we really got to see rural Morocco. Unfortunately, our cab driver did not speak a single word of English, and seemed to be in a bad mood, so he did not say a word the entire drive which was kind of weird. We stopped in on a Berber couscous mill, were the villagers bring their wheat to grind on the wheel which was powered by the river. We even went further to a real Berber village that is believed to be one of the original settlements. The poverty was pretty surreal, but it amazed me how every single village, with a population no larger than around 200, always had a decent sized mosque with a minaret in it. We headed back after a couple of hours of exploring and actually convinced one of the cab drivers to take us by a liquor store. I think everyone was hoping for a beer or two when we got back after a couple of days of walking. When we did find the store, none of us could believe how much the entire operation felt like we were buying beer on the black market. The store was disguised as a convenience store on the back side of an office building, and the windows were lined with bottles of water to block view into the store. I think we were all a little freaked out about how taboo alcohol seemed to be so we got one case for the 10 of us and headed back. Everyone split up for dinner, so Phil and I decided to take a little risk and eat at the food vendor stalls in the medina with the locals. In hindsight, that may have not been the best idea, but Phil somehow made the phrase “there are worse ways to die” sound so convincing. Neither of us got sick and we ended up eating several kebabs, snails, and plates of calamari for about 4 dollars each. Afterwards, we all spent the rest of the night just relaxing at the riad. The Moroccans seemed to get a little crabby around 10 at night, so none of us really enjoyed getting yelled at as we walked through the markets. The next morning, we got up early and hopped back on the train. Casablanca was just as bad the second time as it was the first time, but some of us still managed to find our way to the mosque which was definitely worth the trip. We all ended up back at a Moroccan bar near the port around 3 and just hung out there. Nobody wanted to risk getting to far away and missing the boat.
Everyone made it on the boat. Although a few of our friends got caught sneaking on alcohol. A lot of people do it, but some individuals are not very smart about it and think that putting a full bottle in their backpack is a fool proof way of not getting caught. Obviously, they were not joining the rest of us in high school in our efforts to give our mothers as many gray hairs as possible. Those caught got some dock time at the next port, which means they cannot get off the boat for a couple hours once we arrive.
On our way out of the harbor, we ended up having a lot of turbulence as a result of both the weather and the fact that we have to turn our stabilizers off as we are turning. I was actually sitting in the dining room when the biggest wave hit us, and every empty chair and table in the room flipped, while every drawer flew open. No one was seriously hurt, but a few people had sprained wrists from falling.
Neptune Day:
Yesterday we had Neptune day, which is a celebration of everyone crossing the equator. There was a ceremony, and a lot of people were covered in fish guts before jumping into the pool. A lot of people shaved their heads as well, including several girls which kind of freaked me out. I could not help but imagine what kind of sunburns some of these people were going to get with a bald head and the equator sun. I have managed to stay pretty diligent in regards to not getting too burnt, but there are definitely a few crispy people. That night, a lot of people went to pub night on the 7th deck. I think there had definitely been a lot of people drinking in their cabins beforehand because there were a lot more white guys dancing than normal. Phil was dancing, but that did not shock anyone.
As for today, classes have a lot of people buckling down in order to get a lot of their work done before we get to Namibia. I have had a couple of papers and a test, but am finally getting through the busy stretch. I just found out today that the ship is actually the fastest cruise ship in the world. In fact, no other ship is really even close. At full power, we can do 35 knots while the second fastest cruise ship could never get over 28. We have been at around 30 knots all day today and everyone can tell that we are definitely booking. I am assuming that we must be a little behind schedule. Well that’s all for right now. I will try to do some in Namibia if I can find internet.

Hola! Just got back on the boat from my first amazing adventure in Spain, and cannot say enough about this whole experience already. Pulling into Cadiz, Spain, one could not help by stare in awe at Western Europe’s oldest, constantly inhabited city. The town had a slow moving charm to it, along with beautiful plazas all over the place. Getting off the boat took a little while, but we were very lucky in that Phil, my roommate has a good friend who lives in Cadiz. She came with a huge sign saying “welcome Phil and Andy” and showed us around Cadiz for 4 or 5 hours in her car. We saved a lot of money seeing as we did not have to pay a cab to see everything. Then we decided to stop at this small restaurant on the beach for lunch. The food was unbelievable and our bill came out to be 8 Euros a person, including all of our drinks. We ordered a bunch of different tapas and just passed the plates around. Everything from calamari, to shark, to manchego cheese, and sangria was present on the table. Not too long after lunch, Phil’s friend Tara drove us to the airport were we hopped on a flight to Barcelona.
Barcelona was just unbelievable. We got off the plane and decided that we needed to head straight to Las Ramblas St. to find a good hostel. On our way though, we ran into a group of about 10 girls who were also trying to find a place, but no one in their group spoke Spanish. As a result, they stuck with us and we ended up a nice hostel in the middle of Barcelona. The city was unbelievable that night. It is such a mix of modern and ancient architecture. You will be walking down a bustling city street one moment, and then be turning down a narrow, cobblestone avenue the next. We decided to get some food right away, and our group ended up at this amazing restaurant in the back alleys of Plaza Real. For 60 Euros, they brought out 30 different plates of tapas and pitchers of the best sangria that I have ever had. As for the food, it’s was wonderful, although I found myself trying several things that I would have never tried in a million years had I not been in such an amazing situation. I think I ended up trying raw octopus tentacle, anchovies, fried anchovies, raw squid in olive oil, dried herrings, and some other things that I am sure that I have blocked out of my memory. That night we went out for awhile to some of the local bars and had a great time. There are street performers everywhere at night, some of which are really creepy, but they were all fun to watch. A lot of them were living statues. One in particular that I found really creepy was a man dressed as the grim reaper, standing over a pale women in a long black dress, and her hands were tied to marionette strings that the reaper used to move her around on the ground. It was weird, but it definitely got your attention. Unfortunately, I was pick pocket pretty early into the night when two women walked up and grabbed my hands, while another came from being and stuck her hands in my pockets. As soon as a I whipped around, all three just rushed me and took off. Thankfully, I had my stuff in several different places, including a pouch around my neck that I tucked into my shirt. All I lost was 5 Euros and one of my credit cards which I cancelled right away. The police told me that the area that we were in was notorious for pick pockets and that it was actually starting to hurt tourism.
The next day, we got up and toured the entire city on our own. Phil and I got pretty good with the metro station and bought day passes for 5 Euros. Several of the girls tagged along as we visited the Picasso museum, the Gaudi park, the Gaudi museum, and the Segrada Familia. The Segrada Familia was absolutely stunning, but it has been under construction for a decade or so. It was actually 11 Euros to enter, but I figured I would not have another opportunity to see the church for a long time, so some of us coughed up the money to go in, which was not disappointing. Afterwards we went to this pizza place which may have had the best pizza that I had ever had. The restaurant made their own mozzarella and cured several of the meats used on the pizzas. Not tipping is something I am still getting use to, but many Spanish get offended if a tip is offered. I have been a waiter for a couple summers and always tip a lot as a result, but not abroad I guess. The Gaudi stuff was very interesting, though it was spread out all over the city, sometimes in some sketchy areas. Certain areas made me feel like I was stepping straight into the movie “A Nightmare Before Christmas.” We got back to our hostel in the afternoon and had a quick siesta before we headed out for the night. A large group of us got tickets to the soccer game and headed there around 9. First off, let me say that there is very little comparison in the United States that I can use to describe how these people are about soccer. They show up hours before, drink enormous amounts of alcohol, wrap themselves in flags and scarves and then pretty much show up to battle. The stadium held about 95,000 people, and there were times that the crowd got so loud that it actually hurt your ears. The game was a big one. It was a rivalry match between the Barcelona teams, FC Barcelona and Espanya, and the winner moved on in the Spanish Cup. As you can imagine, there was some hostility in the air. Phil and I bought some cheap seats and had our first cultural experience very early when we realized that we got seats in the middle of the craziest soccer hooligans in the stadium. Imagine 300 crazy, drunk Spaniards, surrounded by about 100 swat officers in riot gear for the entire game!!!! They had a completely different level of swearing as well! There was actually a song, one of several, that’s chorus actually translated to “Enjoy having a whore as a mother.” Needless to say, it was a crazy experience. FC Barcelona went up 3-0 early in the first half, and the game looked like it could get out of hand as the FC Barcelona guys looked like men among boys, but things change in the second half. Phil and I, with a few well placed distractions, somehow managed to weasel our way to seats really close to the field. We expected the owners of the seats to return, but literally everyone in the stands came back, except for the 2 people whose seats we were in. Lucky would be the word I would use here. In the second half, Espanya came out firing and scored 2 goals quickly. All of a sudden, the stadium became a mad house and the rest of the game was a serious nail biter. On a side note, there was a haze, almost a cloud, hanging over the stadium. Phil and I thought there was fog coming in until we realized that it was actually smoke, from about 50,000 people smoking cigars and cigarettes at the same time. You could literally see smoke rising from different sections. FC Barcelona pulled out the win and Phil and I booked it to the Metro, but that did not work. The Metro was a madhouse of drunken people, but we made it home in one piece. That night, Phil and I, along with another guy and 15 girls decided to head to this famous club that we had been invited to earlier in the day by a club promoter. They wanted the guys to pay 20 Euros each, even though we were on the list, but Phil and I convinced him to waive it seeing as we head brought 15 blonde American girls with us. The rest of the night was one of the most fun times of my life. The club was unbelievably nice, located right on the beach. Models danced on tables while a man with a crystal, electric violin played along with some of the craziest techno that I have ever heard. To top it all off, one of the guys who came with us has a pretty wealthy family, so he bought several bottles of champagne. I could not have felt more spoiled to be at a club, next to the Mediterranean, drinking champagne with friends. We did not leave until 6 in the morning, and got back to our hostel for a couple of hours. Unfortunately, it took awhile seeing as we got a cab driver who thought he could take the long way to get more money out of us. On top of that, Barcelona has a different variation of Spanish called Catalan, which is a mix of French and Spanish. As a result, he was kind of a pain to communicate with. Our flight was at 1, so we all made it there after a few cups of coffee.
Once we got back to Cadiz, Phil’s friend picked us up and took us to her house on the nearby naval base. We got to use the internet a bit, and did some laundry before heading back to the boat. That night we toured the city with the group of friends that we had made in Barcelona and just soaked up the culture of Cadiz. It is a very safe, friendly place, so we could just wander. We had dinner at another mom and pop restaurant. I may have had one of my top five favorite meals at this restaurant. I had this pork dish that had the pork covered in manchego cheese, and then wrapped in bacon and fried. The pork was then covered in this tomato, creamy, cheese sauce. It was unbelievable. As usual, along with 2 glasses of sangria, my bill was 12 Euros. As it got later, we found a very fun Moorish club deeper in the city. All of the bartenders spoke English and the atmosphere made me feel like I was in a giant tent with chandeliers hanging all over. We stayed there all night, talking to the locals about everything from Obama to life in Cadiz. One of the locals asked me where I was from, and when I told him Indianapolis, his eyes let up as he said, “I love NASCAR!” in Spanish. I could not believe someone in a small town in Spain knew about Indianapolis. We got home late, but still woke up early this morning to have one last day to walk around Cadiz. I am absolutely exhausted, but glad I went all out. I feel like I can honestly say that I did not waste a minute. Now we are back on the boat for 2 days until we reach Morocco. Bed time now!