Journey’s End

You can never go back, can you? Once you leave, you are banished forever. The key to Neverland is lost, and you can no longer go, not even to visit. No more make-believe, it’s time for the real world.

Dear Wendy, my heart cries with yours.

-- “The Death of Peter” by Tony DiTerlizzi, DiTerlizzi Sketchbook: Diary of a Young Artist

Semester at Sea has been a dream. One hundred days of make-believe - floating from country to country, experiencing, learning, living, dreaming. We’ve seen and traveled the world, but never have felt so far from it. Tomorrow we’ll be thrown back into “the real world,” thrust into a place and time we’re familiar with.

But we’ve changed.

We have seen things no one will understand. Experienced indescribable events. Witnessed poverty, wealth, oppression, freedom, beauty, squalor, joy, and sorrow in their most concentrated and true forms. But you will never be able to imagine what we’ve observed, felt, done. You see a photograph…while we feel it. The sounds, the smells, the textures, the tastes. We will never be able to relay what we experienced.

But we’ll try. You’ll want to hear about our adventures, and we’ll want to describe every detail so you can understand. But you’ll get tired, and then so will we. And while I’m sure it will take months for me to sort through all my feelings and reflections, the only ones who will be able to truly understand are the ones who have embarked on this incredible journey too.

Semester at Sea has first and foremost been a semester of college. Sponsored by the University of Pittsburg, the classes I took opened my eyes to the world around me. Ship Lit has left the greatest impression, as I believe art and literature are the greatest ways of learning about a country’s culture and traditions. Global Studies has been extremely informative in providing concrete facts and textbook descriptions in preparation for the countries explored.

Experiencing a country is the best way to learn about it. For those of you who know me, you know I have the attention of a three-year old and the memory span of a goldfish. But having seen the same prison-hall-green paint that Nelson Mandela saw, I can never forget the facility that was Robben Island. And somehow, the facts stuck.

I have learned (and retained) more about history and cultural anthropology in the past 100 days, than I have throughout all of high school and college combined. Sad. The things we don’t learn in textbooks are what stay. I could have learned about segregation and Apartheid in school, but it wasn’t until witnessing it in South Africa (12 years after Apartheid) that I could put racism into perspective. The same is true when witnessing women being treated as second-class citizens, as painfully seen in India.

The most influential part of the learning process has been experiencing all these events with my peers. Traveling with someone is the best way to get to know them. We’ve created unbreakable bonds: sweated together in the heat of India, bled together climbing mountains in Vietnam, held someone’s hair back in Mauritius, watched with pleasure as someone fulfilled a life dream in the heart of the Amazon. The people I’ve met on this voyage have inextricably become a part of me.

And I know the friendships will last. Over forty Fall 2005 voyagers are rendezvousing in the Hamptons this summer, so I know our group will keep in touch. We’ll go to each other’s weddings, brag to each other about our children, travel together again, laugh together again, cry together again. We haven’t only been around the world, we’ve experienced the world together. We will never be the same, not without each other.

The sense of community onboard the ship is staggering. I first stepped onboard wondering who my friends would be, secretly whispering to Margaux that I could never fathom being friends with So-and-So. I was wrong. I’ve learned on this voyage that it’s important to spend as much quality time with the people you enjoy being around as possible. But more importantly, you should never dismiss someone for their differences - they might just end up being your best travel partner. Everyone you meet can contribute to a new, different, and amazing experience.

In all our differences – Californian, New Yorker, musician, sorority sister, body-builder, Poly-Sci major – we’re all the same. Shaved your head, Alexis? You look incredible. Wearing a skirt from Myanmar, Nathan? It looks amazing. We’ve seen things no one will understand, done things people back home just won’t get. Half the guys on this ship dressed up as women for the GSA Drag Show? No big deal. We’re a community, we’re friends, we’re family. There’s not a passenger on this ship I couldn’t start up a conversation with. We all have something in common: the world. We’ve embarked on an incredible journey, and I cannot thank each and every student for making this the best semester possible.

Above all, I’d like to thank my parents. Mom and Dad, thank you for giving me the opportunity to see the world. Thank you for your undying support and encouragement. You have enabled me to realize my dreams, experience and live them! Not just Semester at Sea, but everything. University of Southern California? “Great!” Art Center College of Design? “We’re so happy for you!” Semester at Sea? “Absolutely!” I couldn’t ask for better parents. Thank you for the world, Mom and Dad. I’m so, so, SO appreciative of everything you’ve done, and I know you’re proud of me. But I simply can’t thank you enough.


This, my loyal readers, is the last of my Semester at Sea entries. I will continue to post my country illustrations on my art blog (and I DO plan on posting Myanmar through Japan soon!). Thank you for all of your support and comments. It’s been a pleasure keeping this online journal, not only for myself, but for my friends, family, and YOU. Parents of Semester at Sea students, thank you so much for your support as well. I can’t tell you how many of my friends have come up to me and said, “My mom/dad reads your blog!”

I did not envision this travel journal to be of great literature value. It was meant to document my journey across the world, so I can recount all of my fond memories. Frequently the grammar and punctuation was not correct, and often my comments were not appropriate. I have tried not to gear my entries away from their original audience, but it was inevitable that I began to perform for you dozens of parents and SAS readers. If you would be so kind as to comment on this last blog, so I can gain a more accurate account of the readership numbers, I’d greatly appreciate it.

Thank you all. It has been an incredible journey!

Until next time,

Frank-Joseph “Hodge” Frelier

Thirteen months to the day since Gandalf sent us on our long journey, we found ourselves looking upon a familiar sight. We were home. How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back?
- Frodo Baggins, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King

Wrap it up!

This is my second to last blog! Time is winding down on the ship. We’ve packed, we’ve gotten contact information, we’ve shed tears. It’s been fun, kids!

Here are some last minute pics so you can put faces to names!!


***Jim & Frank. My roommate. I think this picture pretty much sums up our relationship. I feel that Jim is always looking at me from the corner of his eye, thinking “Who IS that kid?” Anyhow, he was a fantastic roommate. I couldn’t have asked for better.


***Frank & Ben, my cabin steward. I forgot to mention how easy life was on the ship, with Ben around. He’d make my bed, change my sheets and towels, pick up and fold laundry, clean the bathroom. No worries, I tipped him like a Rockefeller.


***Frank & Tina the Romanian Disciplinary Enforcer Officer. She was tough, but incredible. I love her. She’d always be so excited to see what kind of goods I’d bought in port, insisting I wear the sequined hat daily. The hat was for “Crazy Hat” themed Pub Night.


***Mine and Jim’s room…me on the right, Jim on the left. Ben had recently made our beds.


***My magnetic wall. Thanks for everyone who sent photos and postcards, they’re all up! Notice the sloth corner, and Margaux’s “People to Thrown Down” list. Mine is conveniently out of frame.


***Tom aka “The Voice” and Assistant Executive Dean. He’d do the daily announcements from his office, at noon and 1700 every day. Known for his lack of humor voice, this guy is hilarious. In closing, I’d like to include some of The Voice’s best lines (in no particular order):

1. Those traveling independently in Brazil should fill out an Independent Travel form. This is not the same as wandering around by your self. That is called a Death Certificate.

2. We are two tampons away from a toilet catastrophe.

3. Be warned that if you flush the toilet while crossing the Equator, you may rupture the space-time continuum.

4. You may have seen the birds outside the ship. Dr. Polozov has identified them as blue footed boobies. If you don’t want to catch the avian flu, keep your hands off the boobies.

5. You may have noticed the dolphins outside the ship. Be warned, these are not normal bottle-nosed dolphins – these spit venom at their prey. Do not look them directly in the eye.

6. The following students have not turned in the Brazil Immigrations form. If you do not turn them in before 1900 tonight, you will be shot.

7. Please do not congregate around Purser’s Circle. For those of you with low SAT scores, that means “hangout.” If you congregate, you will be shot.

8. I know the Doctor said the Purell dispensers are full of alcohol – I saw your eyes light up – and I know it’s not in the handbook, but please do not drink the Purell.

9. As you can see, you cannot walk across the ocean by foot. In my religion, that is called the Second Coming. So let me know if you DO see it.



***Most of all, I’m going to miss laying out on the deck…studying.
SEE YOU IN SAN DIEGO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Assimilation

***This was supposed to be a joint blog with Meg – I was to write a satirical type of blog while she was supposedly drawing some pictures of the ship. I would post on her blog, and she on mine. Yeah, well, that didn’t happen and I liked this entry too much to not post. So enjoy. And please remember, I’m not THAT shallow!***

In a few days, I will be reintroduced to a life I’ve forgotten. The fast-paced world of silicone implants and brown roots, Jaguars and Escalades, Spider Club and Moon, Paris Hilton cocaine binges and Lindsey Lohan anorexic purges - will I be able to adjust to the world that is Los Angeles? How much did I really miss?

In Hawaii, miraculously, my cell phone worked. Among the hundreds of other SAS students, I frantically tried to call my friends and family. But I’d forgotten their speed dials. I had to look up my mother’s cell phone number. I’ve gotten so used to not having a cell phone around, I’m half tempted to keep the thing shut off. It’s been incredibly liberating not being accessible. And while I’ve had the rare taste of instant messaging this voyage, I’m hoping to kick my AIM addiction and continue socializing in a “normal” person-to-person, face-to-face manner.

NOT normal is my take on the American dollar. Thank God for inflation, I’m so used to my 50 cent Brazilian beer, $1 knock-off Vietnamese DVD, $2 Indian taxi-ride, $3 Chinese cup of noodles, and $6 Myanmar massage. How can I fuel up my car with gas prices at $3 a gallon? And a $10 cocktail? You’ve got to be kidding me.

Dining at any restaurants other than European establishments is just going to make me look like a pretentious asshole. Pan-Asian-American-infused-Indian-food is NOT international cuisine. And as much as I love ordering Panda Express from Downtown Los Angeles, I’m not convinced the South Central employees have ever tasted real orange chicken. Will I be able to sit passively while my date exclaims, “This is the best curry I’ve ever had!”?

Dating. I haven’t been on a date since September. Am I ready for the brutal world of mixed messages, hidden intents, cheap dates, and one night stands? Will I remember the subtlety of a kiss that says, “Good night” when the kiss actually means, “Spend the night”? Do I remember the difference between their dorm-room sheets or their 500,000 Egyptian thread count Hollywood Hills covers?

I love Hollywood, but will I be able to adapt to the harsh idealisms that are fashion and popular culture? I’m so used to wearing sweatpants or a swimsuit around the Explorer, will I be able to fit into my Seven Jeans? Am I going to have to get into the habit of obsessively reading US Weekly and The Star to catch up with the latest trends and gossip? Didn’t that Tom and Katie couple have a baby or something?

I’ve been traversing the globe, seeing the world, but never felt so out of touch with current events. My morning routine that has consisted of omelets and Global Studies will once again be made up of granola and CNN. But every time I hear “Cape Town” or “India’s caste system,” my ears will perk up. I’ve been there!, I’ll think. I’ve seen that!

And so my life will continue, with the added knowledge of WORLDS of understanding and experiences, and a serious travel bug. But several weeks time, maybe a few months, I’ll be back into the groove. I will have started summer semester at Art Center, be near my USC friends, sleeping in my own bed again. My mind will be on other things, my efforts directed toward different goals. Assimilation will come naturally, almost unnoticed, until I’m “LA” again.

While I can never forget the experiences that have occurred on this voyage, the overwhelming city that is my home will encompass and embrace me. That’s what Los Angeles does. It lures you in with the temptation of the American Dream, blinding you from the reality of the world, distracting you with new and pretty things. Los Angeles is it’s own fabulous, fast-paced little bubble.

That’s why I moved there in the first place. It’s fun, it’s fresh. It certainly does it’s best to make you feel welcome, regardless of the superficiality of it all. As long as you don’t take it too seriously, Los Angeles is an incredible place. Flashy Sunset Boulevard, hip Hollywood, zooming down the 101, sunning on the pristine beaches of Malibu.

I can’t wait to unpack my Gucci sunglasses…that were made in China.

Winding down....

Day 93

The GSA hosted a tea party as an opportunity to break out newly purchased tea-ware and exotic teas from Mauritius through Japan. Lovingly called “High Tea” (complete with crumpets and Mad Hatter attire), our celebration was appropriately held on 4/20.








***Ice cream (a rare treat) was served at dinner, so the tea party quickly turned into an Ice Cream Social.

That night, students crammed the halls, lounges, and cafeterias studying for the Global Studies Final. The exam was at 9:15am, but I’ve never seen the ship so active after midnight.


***This photo was taken at 4:00am.

Day 94

Global Studies exam. And much needed sleep. I think I only resurfaced to see my grade. I got a B in the class. Not too shabby for minimal effort (though I’m one of those losers that barely missed a class).

Day 95 - Study Day

Taco Day…and Hawaii!!! Unfortunately, we didn’t get off the ship. But we DID have a Hawaiian themed-Pub Night, and our CELL PHONES WORKED!!!!! I’m sorry for those of you I called at 4am. I didn’t really think about the time difference. My bad. It was nice talking to you either way.

I’d forgotten how much I missed text messaging.

Day 96 – Finals, Day One (and Jeff’s birthday!!)

I didn’t go to bed. I spent 26 hours working on my Ship Lit final project. Naomi might be married to an artist, but thank God she’s a horrible judge at guessing how long it took me to illustrate 6 paintings! She thinks I spent that last two weeks...little does she know I started (and finished) them in little over a day. I hope she never reads this blog.

After the final, I crashed. And now am up at 3am again. Finals has messed everyone’s internal clock up, and there are dozens of students lounging around wide-eyed and bushy-tailed (I’ve never understood that expression).

Since I’m bored, and the internet is fast, here are some of my favorite Ship Lit illustrations!

***If you’re planning on coming down to see me at port in San Diego YOU MUST REGISTER. http://www.semesteratsea.com/voyages/spring2006/index.html
We will be arriving at Broadway Pier, 1140 North Harbor Drive, San Diego, CA 92101. I’m willing to bet that I personally will be disembarking around 1pm.
***For those of you wondering, I studied through the SAS Students of Service Auction. But not to worry. Margaux and Jeff won trips to Seattle. And Yellowstone. And London.
***A very big CONGRATULATIONS to my roommate Michelle, for become the new Pasadena Gamble House intern, a very prestigious student internship presented by USC’s School of Architecture!!! I’m SO PROUD OF YOU!!!!!

Ambassador’s Ball

Day 92

It’s crunch time on the ship. Everyone is freaking out and doing last minute projects, studying for finals, and writing papers. Ecology is kicking my ass. Polozov is my favorite teacher, but he’s teaching the class as if we were bio majors. Huh? It’s a 0300 level class. I’m an art major. Try and figure out how that’s going.

True to art major form, I do get to paint one of my final projects. My final project in Ship Lit is to illustrate several scenes from some of the stories we’ve read. And true to Frank form, I won’t start those paintings until about two days before they’re do (bet you wish you were here to see me freak out, huh Deidra/Jazzy/Dan/Brian. Haha.). I’m actually ahead of the game though, and have nailed down 4 rough sketches to paint, so the transfer of paint to canvas shouldn’t be too hard. I love bragging that I don’t have to write a 12-page final paper for her class though. I love being an art major.

Today was the Ambassador’s Ball, a over-hyped fundraiser put on by the Students of Service. Dressed in their finest (and worst, for that matter), we gathered for a very Explorer fancy dinner. Because there are so many students, dinner had to be in two separate shifts. You had to “reserve” tables about 2 weeks ago, so you can IMAGINE the drama it caused between friends. Luckily for me and my group of friends, only collateral damage. When the Ball commenced today, friendships were solid. I sat with Shaela, Katie, Mark, and Miami Emily.


***Shaela, Emily, Katie

The entire ordeal, although fun, was a complete waste of 6 hours. They could have streamlined it all to last only 3 hours, but instead drew it out as long as possible, with hour breaks between each event. Dinner. Hour and a half break. 20-minute slide show. Hour break. Dessert. Half hour break. The entire evening culminated in a huge prom…uh…I mean dance.

The slide show was pretty amazing. Josh, the guy responsible for the yearbook, compiled some of his best photographs into a slide show that was presented in the Union. The photos were beautiful, but I wish there would have been more of student interactions. We’d seen the landmarks and historical sites before. But the photos were excellently done.

Dinner and dessert were great too. Dessert. Wow. The hotel staff completely decked out the Garden Lounge cafeteria with chocolate castles, massive cakes, towers of éclairs and cream puffs, trays of candy and cream cheese mints…talk about a sugar rush. The garnishes were almost as beautiful as the sweets themselves: carved and sculpted fruits to look like flowers, animals, and all the famous wonders of the world.

After having gorged ourselves on sweets and filet minion, we wallered over to the Union. The dance…reminded me of one of those wedding receptions that takes place in the “convention center” of a Quality Inn. Everyone was having fun, but it was pretty lame and I just couldn’t get into it. Kind of disappointing.

That is all.


***Hodge & Joanna






***Hodge & Janine


***Jackie, Hodge, Margaux

ps That is the infamous Pucci tie that I got me SO many compliments! Oh, and I designed the suit jacket.
pss How excited am I that I pulled off jeans without getting in trouble? Only problem is…people said I looked like Ryan Seacrest. Ew.

Quote of the night: “Mine are like half dollars! Little pagodas, if you will!” -- Shaela

Silence at Sea / Mr. SAS

Day 91

Though the national Day of Silence is April 26th, the onboard GSA chose April 19th to advocate awareness of LGBT discrimination.

Silence at Sea 2006
Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. My voice has been silenced to represent discrimination against lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender individuals. Vicious acts of cruelty that have been taken out on LGBT people are ignored daily. With my muted voice, I hope to represent a victim of these hate crimes that has been silenced by death. Awareness is essential for the advancement of rights for the LGBT community. Just imagine the voices you could be hearing. What are you going to do to end the Silence?

The support for this activity was staggering. Over 50 students and staff, including “The Voice”, participated (Karen did the announcements). We all wore white shirts and jeans, had stickers that explained “I am participating in Silence at Sea,” and handed out pamphlets (italicized above) that voiced our message. The event ended later that evening with a power scream and formal cocktail party. If all 700 people onboard the ship were aware of our silence, we did our job.


***Aviva, Frank, Shae, Jeff



That evening was the Mr. Semester at Sea competition presented by Students of Service. The shipboard community voted in 9 students: Elliot, Brad C, Brad, Brett, Mason, Clint, Alex, Jordan, and Brent. They all performed a dance together – a medley of some pretty hilarious songs with some great dance moves. After the two lovely hosts introduced the boys, they all performed their “talents.” It was all very entertaining.

Elliot did a bit of stand-up comedy, Brad C executed an incredible routine in preparation for the London Olympic Games – Interpretive Gymnastics, Brad stripped down for a performance of “I Like Big Butts,” Brett did a fantastic number involving a Kermit impersonation and a very creative take on Mickey’s “Fantasia,” Mason walked on his hands for an outstanding period of time, Clint limbo-ed Sea Olympics style, Alex laughed his famous laugh, Jordan juggled oranges (and made orange juice), and Brent took a long unnecessary nap. The competition ended in a dating-game style Q&A.


***Supportive students

Brett came out victorious. Congratulations, Mr. SAS!


***The Top Five…and crowning Brett

Japan

Whereas my previous post may seem a bit bitter and jaded, my entry for Japan will be nothing but praise. What a perfect, perfect ending to a fantastic voyage. By far my favorite stop, I spent the majority of my time in Kyoto. Beirut has long been my #1 travel destination, but I would gladly put it on the wayside if it meant another trip to Japan. The people were incredible, so much mystery, wealth, such a booming and lively country – I find everything about Japan fascinating. The art, the design, the architecture, the fashions, the music, the new and old…Japan was fantastic.

My best friend growing up is part Japanese, and I’d gotten inklings about the rich, mysterious culture from her. Moving to Los Angeles and attending USC and Art Center opened my eyes to the incredible design and culture of Japan, least of all from Keith. And of course I did what everyone else in America did over the summer – ran out and read Memoirs of a Geisha. Onboard the ship, we were prepped in Global Studies, the interport lecturers and students, and of course Ship Lit (reading Japanese surrealist Haruki Murakami). I’d bought Lonely Planet’s guide to Kyoto, which was worth the $21.99 in gold.

Day 83

Unable to leave the ship until noon, Shaela and I found a map of Kobe from the Explorer’s field office. Kobe is a smallish port city on Osaka Bay, made famous by the enormous earthquake in 1995 the nearly leveled the city, killing over 6,000 people. Risen from the ashes phoenix-style, the city is now a bustling little urban center, desperately trying to match the brilliance of it’s surrounding cities.

Viewing the map, Shaela and I discovered Fashion Island, a nearby piece of land with a fashion school, museum, library, and fashion market. Released with the hordes of Semester at Sea students, we quietly made our way over to Kobe’s little gem that is Rokko Island. It was pouring in Kobe, so we had to buy an umbrella. Try miming that to a quick-mart clerk!

The Kobe Fashion Museum was a compilation of historic and contemporary fashions from around the world. A very cool part of the exhibit was The Clothing of Napoleon I, in which students recreated costumes from classic paintings of the French ruler. Also a part of their permanent collection were designs by 20th century designers: CoCo Chanel, Madeleine Vionnet, Yoichi Nagasawa, Chistian Dior, and Emilio Pucci to name some highlights. Unfortunately, we couldn’t take photos but I did a cool sketch for my next Materials of Design project. :-)

We explored the area around the school and found ourselves in the fashion library. With frappachino in hand, we poured through the magazines and books we’d missed out on. Shaela decided she’d come back another day to do homework, so we took off for the heart of Kobe for some dinner and more exploration.

While Kobe is known for it’s international (specifically Indian) cuisine, how could I possibly go to Kobe and not have Kobe Beef? Armed with mommy’s credit card, we walked into A-1, a downtown steak specialist with only one thing on the menu: Kobe Beef. Shaela and I split the famously tender cut, savoring every bite. The chef and owner watched in delight as Shaela and I moaned in ecstasy. Seriously, the best steak I’ve ever had. Ever.

After dinner we did a bit of sluggish shopping, but not wanting to exercise the limits of the AmEx, returned to the ship. We shoved a bottle of Malibu in the port terminal’s locker, and then proceeded to take about 2 hours getting ready for a night out in Kobe. Through the cold and rain, with a good helping of warm dumpling things, Shaela and I found ourselves at Second Chance…an elevator-sized club that hosted about 50 screaming SAS kids. Disheveled, we called it a night.

Day 84

I started the day out with a Semester at Sea trip to Kyoto. The Imperial capital for nearly 1000 years, Kyoto was miraculously untouched by World War Two. Lush green summers, blazing Japanese maples in the fall, snowy landscapes of winter, and famed cherry blossoms of the spring, Kyoto was designed to make the most of the beauty of the changing seasons. Somehow, miraculously, Semester at Sea ported in Japan during the famous Cherry Blossom Festival – a festival that takes place throughout southern Japan for the duration of the cherry blossom bloom. This festivals lasts less than two weeks. We were in Kobe for the height of the cherry blossom riot, and everything was decorated with the pink and white blooms. Kudos to Semester at Sea, you get three gold stars (which finally makes par, following that India debacle).

SAS’s first visit was to Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavilion. Built in the 1930s as a retirement villa, the three-storied pavilion is covered in gold leaf and topped with a bronze phoenix. After a sketch and a few dozen photos (I’m like a raccoon when it comes to shiny things), Miami Emily and I rejoined the group to head out to Nijo Castle.

Not as excessively decorated as other castles we’ve visited, Nijo displayed subtle charm and beauty. Decorating walls and panels were original gold-leafed paintings from the Kano period (which I’d learned from USC’s Asian Art History class!), but the most fascinating feature was the “nightingale” flooring. Designed with an extra slot of space between nail and wood, the floorboards would chirp and “sing” when walked upon. It reminded me of the baby chickens and pheasant we used to raise in incubators.

Emily and I strolled through the cherry blossom gardens, and marveled at the enormous koi and goldfish in the looking ponds. She took photos while I drew, and we sat on a bench with our umbrella and people watched. I’m going to miss her.

Our last stop was Kiyomizu-Dera, a series of temples built in the hills overlooking Kyoto. Surrounded by endless stalls and merchants, Emily and I dodged the crowds and headed up into the hills where we stumbled upon an ancient cemetery. Most of the granite headstones and sculptures were well weathered, and you could barely read the engraved Japanese text. Following an overgrown path up into the forested hills, Emily and I were awed (and a little frightened) by the magical hidden graveyards. The light drizzle and waning sunlight only made the place more enchanting.

Back near the entrance to the temples, we took a seat and people watched. Japan has some of the most bizarre fashions and styles. Actually, that was the topic for my Ship Lit journal response. My unforgiving and biting humor coupled with Emily’s sly and sarcastic quick wit…we were a force to be reckoned with. I don’t care what you say though Emily, black and brown can be properly worn together.

Kiyomizu-Dera was where I took my leave, and said goodbye to my fellow SASers. Grabbing my backpack and overnight bag, I signed out and attempted to hail a taxi. Margaux and I were supposedly traveling around Japan together independently, and we’d both gone through hell and back securing a Japan Rail Pass (again, MUCH thanks to the Laydens!!!). Our plan was to meet up with Jeffery and YuYu at a predetermined restaurant. With a few hours to spare, I tossed my bags into a subway locker and walked around Kyoto’s Downtown and most lively district, Pontocho.

Because I’m obsessive compulsive, I sought out to find the Lonely Planet’s suggested 844 Vegan Café, the restaurant where we were supposed to all meet up. Thankfully I found it, after searching for half an hour. It was down a completely random alley, without any street signs (in English). I was terrified I wouldn’t find Margaux or Jeff.

Promptly at 6pm, Jeffery passed over My Bridge, and we had a relieved reunion. Margaux and YuYu were finishing up an SAS trip though, and would be joining us the following evening. Which probably worked out for the best, as Jeffery was much more accommodating (ie high maintenance) than I imagine Margaux or YuYu would have been.

Jeffery had been advised to check out an amazing Japanese style hotel, a ryokan, in Pontocho. Ryokans feature tatami mat-floors and futons instead of beds. We ‘d checked every Lonely Planet listing, but the city was booked because of the Cherry Blossom Festival. We totally lucked out with our ryokan, being right in the middle of lively Pontocho, and only 10 minutes walk to two subway stations and across the east back to Gion.


***The ryokan provided a thermos of hot water, and we christened our stay with cups of tea.

Returning to the area around 844 Café to find a restaurant that took credit cards and had a menu in English, we chanced upon a trendy, chic little restaurant with incredible Japanese food. I had fried prawns and other select fried meat kushiage kabobs. Jeffery had tofu (dyke lover). We topped the night off with a fancy bowl of green tea ice cream.

Lonely Planet in hand, we set off in search of Kyoto’s famous geisha district, Gion. Some wrong turns and several bridges later, we found ourselves lost and in the middle of a desolate, quiet neighborhood with beautiful wooden machiya, ancient Japanese townhouses. Jeff, always the patient one, suggested we head to a more populated area. A few blocks down, the street was alive with businessmen, and women in fancy kimonos. In fact, we barely saw any tourists, but instead dozens of well-dressed Japanese men and women. Geisha territory.

I must admit, I’m slightly obsessed. The mysterious secret women fascinate me. As it turns out, I’d misread the Lonely Planet map, and sent us into a residential area of Gion. Idiot. Exploring blindly, we managed to step right into the magical “Floating World.” Following a cherry blossom-lined stream, we spotted our first geisha in a teahouse window that overlooked the creek. With an obnoxious squeal, I directed Jeffery’s attention to the two elaborately dressed women that were entertaining two suit-clad men. No sooner had I done so, another beautiful white-faced geisha floated by on her way to entertain.



Jeff and I set ourselves up at the corner of two alleyways, right at the intersection of a popular bridge. And hit jackpot. Jeff looked up and exclaimed, “Frank, this is where we need to be. Look! Sloth Bar.” We stood under the neon “Sloth Bar” sign, and I began keeping a log of all the geisha we saw that night:
10:40pm two geisha dining with businessmen
10:45pm pink robed geisha ran by
10:50pm two geisha walk out of Chot Bar
10:53pm two geisha, red and purple kimonos, RUN by
10:54pm yellow kimonoed geisha leaves Sloth Bar!!!
11:05pm white robed geisha
11:11pm green and red run by!
11:12pm two walk by!
In total, we saw 12 geisha that night. Our geisha hunting skills are unparalleled.


***Jeff at 10:54, Gion

Content with our spottings, we headed out to Pig & Whistle International Backpackers Pub. We met a few German and Australian tourists before heading back to the ryokan and a deep, deep sleep.

Day 85

Jeff and I got off to an early start, and headed out to the incredible Fushimi-Inari-Taisha shrine, dedicated to the gods of rice and sake. You may remember these beautiful orange gates from Memoirs of a Geisha when young Chiyo/Sayuri has just met the Chairman. In the movie she sprints down a corridor of orange and casts coins into a well or something. Anyway, we visited those breathtaking orange gates.

Being from New York, Jeff said it reminded him a lot of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s Central Park Gates. Japan’s most popular shrine, the 8th century Fushimi complex sprawls across wooded hills for 4 kilometers, and is lined with hundreds of orange torii. Guarding the gates are dozens of stone foxes (messenger of the Inari), and every few dozen meters was a shrine to the agriculture gods.



We spent the better part of the day here, exploring the eerie halls and paths. It was such an incredible sight to look through the dense green forest and see a vibrant orange line of gates. We found a little tourist shop at the top of the mountain, and attempted to chat with the little Japanese family.



Our next stop was the overwhelming Kyoto Handicraft Center, where we were searching for authentic kimonos and woodblock prints for reasonable prices. The huge cooperative brandished just about every type of Japanese craft imaginable: silks, porcelain dolls, woodblock prints, art, jewelry, painted screens, kimonos, and normal touristy stuff. But not overwhelmingly touristy, the Center was incredible, and the merchants nice and thankfully not pushy. We bought several woodblock prints, and gawked at the antique geisha kimonos. Tata Laura, I was going to try and buy you tall geisha clogs…but they were running for about $1,000 US. Sorry.

With just half an hour to spare, we went back to 844 Café to find Margaux and YuYu. And waited. And waited. Without any means of finding them, and without proper communication devices, we left a note near the café’s door and headed out for dinner and a geisha performance. Yay for miscommunication (or idiot girls who don’t know how to use a map)! We didn’t hear from them until we were back on the Explorer.


*** Pontocho is on the left. Gion, the right.

Our hotel had recommended uber touristy Gion Corner where we were able to see performances sponsored by the Kyoto Foundation of the Arts. It was a cool performance, though I doubt we saw actual geisha on the stage. I only included two in my tally.

The geisha performed the traditional tea ceremony, and served some other independent SAS students that had gotten to the Center earlier. We were also treated to a Koto performance, a 13-stringed harp-like instrument. On stage, a maiko geisha (older) cut and organized a flower arrangement. I’m not entirely sure how much skill was needed to do that, but apparently there is a 1,500 year-old tradition of flower arrangement. Some male performers stepped on stage and acted out a Kyogen, and ancient comic play, and danced and performed to Gagaku percussion music. Another, more elaborate play followed, in the traditional Bunraku Puppet Play style. And lastly, the much-awaited Kyomai style dance, performed by two geisha. Their colorful costumes, graceful movements, and captivating aura was a sight to behold. So what if they weren’t real geisha. They were superb.

We dined at a small low-key establishment in Gion before heading back to Frank’s Sloth Bridge for more geisha spotting. Jeffery was not as patient this time, and we only spotted 7. Two of which were outside the confines of Gion…interesting. Actually, it was out here that we ran into fellow SASers Lana and Stephanie. They were with Lana’s visiting sister and boyfriend. A joyous reunion ensued, and we found ourselves in amidst a shower of cherry blossoms. We were pulling on the branches, of course.


***Hodge, Lana, Steph

We accompanied them on a quest to find a fun karaoke bar, but instead ended up at a little café for late night snacks. A very drunk Stephanie munched on a cigarette instead of a nacho. Sick. That was our cue to leave.

Day 86

With our plans having changed significantly without Margaux and YuYu, Jeff and I decided to head out to Osaka for the day, before returning to the ship. We had breakfast in Kyoto…and on the train…and then as soon as we got to Osaka.

Our guide suggested a day trip to the Osaka Aquarium on the Osaka Harbor, which hosted “the world’s largest aquarium tank.” I’m pretty sure Monterey Bay Aquarium has bigger, but whatever. What Montery doesn’t have is two huge Whale Sharks. That’s right, they had the massive sharks in their main tank. It was pretty incredible.

Overall, the Aquarium was very well done. The animals appeared to have plenty of swimming room and the tanks were very clean. The tanks were arranged featuring different animals from around the Pacific Ring of Fire, which I thought was very creative. They had animals from the Alucian Islands, Costa Rice, Equador, Australia, Japan, to name a few. They had some of my favorite animals in the terrarium/aquarium tanks: Mandarin ducks, sea otters…and a TWO TOED SLOTH! I accidentally elbowed Jeffery in the face with my excitement. Sorry about that!

We had lunch at a Japanese Vegetarian café, which was surprisingly good. On our way back to the train station, a little tourist shop caught our attention. Apparently, Semester at Sea used to dock in Osaka, and the vendor showed us hundreds of photos she’d taken with SAS kids. Her shop used to be a prime souvenir shop for the SAS students returning to the ship. Obligated to give her business, we purchased the last of our gifts from her. (Amy, I got my new baby cousin a little red kimono!!)

A train ride back into the city of Osaka found us wandering around aimlessly. We had lunch…again. Yes, we pretty much ate our way through Japan, too. But seriously, the food was SO GOOD. Osaka was pretty lame, or at least the area we were in, so we hopped back on the train and returned to Kobe.

Hours later, and no word from Margaux or YuYu, Miami Emily, Jeff, Amanda, Jane, E, and a whole other slew of SASers went out to some great Kobe clubs. Jeff and Emily and I purposely dressed up crazy, but as it turned out, nearly everyone did. Japan is the only place where bad/awful fashion decisions are praised. My dear friend Jose Cuervo convinced me to dress up like an anime character.


***Jeff, Amanda, Hodge

Being the last night out in port, you can imagine what a fantastic time we had. Seriously, some of the best dancing and bonding between students. I hadn’t had that much fun in a club for a long, long time. Most everyone was there. I left a 3:30am, when the club was still going strong (and people were STILL arriving). Much thanks to TK, who walked back with me. We’d run out of money LONG ago, and hiked back to the ship, wandering through dark alleys. Good thing Japan has an almost non-existent crime rate!

Day 87
Our Very Last Day In Port

I was woken by Margaux, calling “Hi love!” I ran down to YuYu’s room, where the four of us had a powwow. The two girls had gotten completely lost and been unable to find our Café. They continued on with the planned itinerary, a trip to Mount Fuji. They didn’t see 19 geisha though. Or any, for that matter. I just guess my next trip to Japan will lead me to Mount Fuji.

I still hadn’t activated my Japan Rail Pass, but couldn’t convince Margaux to accompany me to Hiroshima. Alone, I booked a ticket for the infamous city and had breakfast in the bustling train station.

An hour and a half later, I arrived in Hiroshima. It was overcast and drizzly, and the city had an eerie, very somber mood. With only 300 Yen in my pocket, I walked the two miles blindly. All of the street signs were in Japanese characters, so I relied on my map and intuition to get me to my destination.

Shielding myself from the pouring rain, I looked up to judge my whereabouts and realized I had found it. The A-bomb Dome. The former Hiroshima Prefecture Industrial Promotion Hall, and all that now stands in memory of that fateful day on August 6th, 1945. This is from the plaque:

The atomic bomb was detonated in the air at an altitude of approximately 600 meters almost right over the hall. The explosion by a single bomb claimed the lives of over 200,000 people and the city area of about 2-km radius was turned into ashes. In order to have this tragic fact known to succeeding generations and to make it a lesson for humankind, the reinforcement work of the ruins has been done by the contributions of many people who desire peace within and out of the country. The ruins shall be preserved forever.

One of the first things I noticed stepping off the train was all of the contemporary architecture. Barely any of the buildings contained Japanese flair. Modern. Grey. Boring. Nothing like the ancient cities of Kyoto, Kobe, Osaka.

Because Hiroshima had been leveled.

At 8:15am, an American B29 bomber dropped an atomic bomb, the firs atomic bombing in human history. The bomb exploded…and the [Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall] was crushed and gutted by fire. Everyone in the building died immediately.

In December 1996, the A-bomb Dome was formally registered on the World Heritage List as a historic witness to the tragedy of human history’s first use of a nuclear weapon and as a universal peace monument appealing for the abolition of nuclear wearpons and the realization of lasting world peace.

My experience in the museum is indescribable. Like I imagine Auschwitz in Poland, the Museum of War Atrocities in Vietnam, and Ground Zero in New York City to be, the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum had a profoundly deep effect on me. Extremely tastefully done, the museum did not seek martyrdom, nor victimize America. They presented the facts tastefully, and sought to educate visitors about the evils of nuclear warfare. Incredibly thorough, the museum explained the history and original founding of Hiroshima, and contained the historical documents related to the bombings, letters from Americans in the 40s protesting nuclear warfare, and maps and diagrams of the city. There were two amazingly detailed miniature models of the city, illustrating Hiroshima before and after August 6th.

And on the wall was a massive panorama of the leveled city, taken from ground zero, at the location of the A-bomb Dome. My emotions engulfed me, and I began to cry. An entire city wiped out. Temperatures had reached 7,000 degrees Celsius – hot enough to melt stone statues and imprint human shadows on granite steps.


***Photo from the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum exhibit

The second part of the exhibit held artifacts found after the explosion, and displayed awful photographs of burn victims and the devastation the atomic bomb had caused. Unable to contain myself, I began to cry uncontrollably. I hurried outside, having skipped that last half of the museum, and bawled in the pouring rain.

I almost didn’t go to Hiroshima. I hadn’t activated my Japan Rail Pass, and thought it would be too much of a hassle to try and book a ticket our last day in port. I’m so glad I did. It was one of the most sobering experiences I’ve encountered on this voyage, I will never forget the incredible museum and the effects it had on me.

I am not going to include my personal reflections and thoughts, as the museum is sure to effect everyone differently. Some Semester at Sea students I spoke with were un-phased, others left numb. I suggest you visit Japan and the museum in Hiroshima yourself.

My experience in Japan was incredible. A fitting, very wonderful end to an unbelievable journey around the world. The train ride back to the ship enabled me to reflect on all of my experiences. I will be writing up a more detailed finale to this Frank at Sea blog closer to our approach to San Diego. But there are still two weeks onboard the Explorer with a lot of projects, a lot of events, and a lot of memories still to come. Just because Japan was the last cultural port, does not mean this blog is over! There are still 11 more days…and counting!

Thanks Mom and Dad, for the World!


***Thanks to Meilee for the sloth photo!!
***Thanks Mary&Gary for the postcard!
***Thanks Michelle for Flaunt!!!!!!! I’m so excited to see you in SD!
***I love Pumpkin Tits. Thank you for being my most loyal reader. Tell all the boys in 2666 I love them, and I’ll see you all at the Abbey and Fiesta Cantina Sunday night!!!!!

The Art of India

Wow, I’m a horrible person. This has taken SO long to paint, scan, upload, and finally post. I’m dreading the next post – Myanmar. I did tons.

As always, let me know what you think of India!

PS Don’t forget to read my newly updated China blog below!!

China

I hate China.

Okay, “hate” is too strong a word. But it was definitely my least favorite country. I had a fantastic time traveling independently with nine other SASers, but the country completely rubbed me the wrong way. DISCLAIMER: Some of the things I’m going say in this entry may be culturally insensitive, not politically correct, and are sure to be rash generalizations. But they are based on my observations and experiences over a course of 4 days.

Day 76 (continued)

Months ago I’d decided to travel China independently. Meaning no Semester at Sea. No plans. Freedom. Traveling independently really forces you out of your comfort zone, and you have to be very flexible to any hiccups that might occur along the way. It also means spending much less money. The only other time I’d traveled independently was the Amazon, but even then we had a very rigid schedule. China was fantastic in that I could go about at my own pace and leisure, and see and do what I wanted.

Our group consisted of Heather, Emily, Jen, Cherish, Nicole, Lydia, Tim, Adam, and Izzy. Nicole and Izzy had set up lodging arrangements at Leo Hostel, in the heart of China’s ancient capital, Beijing. It was a very hodgepodge groups of SASers. I knew everyone, but never really hung out with any of them socially.

We began our adventure the minute we stepped out of the airport. No one around us spoke English. No one. To make matters even more complicated, it was impossible to read any of the text or signage. Suddenly, we weren’t so comfortable. Somehow we managed onto a bus that would take us near the vicinity of our hostel. The bus dropped us off near a huge empty plaza, to which Lydia described as “Looking important.” It was Tiananmen Square.

After wondering alleys and streets for hours (it was now nearly midnight) we found the hostel, but because of our large group, we were escorted to their second facility down the road. The entry was large atrium-like foyer was beautiful. My guess is that the building was once a brothel. The rooms were to be desired. It was the textbook definition of a shady hostel. The bathrooms were communal, as was the single disgusting shower stall that looked like an old boiler room.


***The pillows were filled with grain and rice. Not even kidding. A bag of rice in a pillowcase.

Day 77

Emily and I woke everyone up with the enticement of banana pancakes, which the hostel café served. And by that, I mean we jumped on everyone’s bed screaming, “Banana pancakes, banana pancakes!”

Stepping out into the crisp, beautiful Chinese morning, I opted to explore Beijing alone and headed off to the the Lonely Planet’s suggested Tiananmen March. I began at the infamous Tiananmen Square. Once the ancient center of Chinese government, it is also the vast plaza where Communist dictator Mao Zedong declared the founding of the People’s Republic of China, and is the ill-remembered site of a mass slaughter of student pro-democracy demonstrators in 1989.

The blood has since been scrubbed clean, and this is arguably the only place in China where hawking loogies is prohibited. The imposing Mao Zedong Mausoleum stands proudly in the center of the square, where his preserved body can be viewed by tourists and devoted Chinese admirers who leave hundreds of roses by his tomb. What the hell is with all the pickled Communist leaders?!

Across Tiananmen Square was the Gate of Heavenly Peace, and the entrance to the Forbidden City. Suffering from Little Man’s syndrome, the ancient entrance was crowned with an enormous 40-foot portrait of Mao. Beyond the gates stood the impressive and incredibly well-preserved Imperial Palace. For 500 years, the palace saw the rise and fall of 24 Ming and Qing emperors. It was breathtaking.

Seeing the Forbidden City in Hero or The Last Emperor simply does not even begin to illustrate the palace’s grandeur and magnificence. I spent several hours traversing the royal halls, courts, and galleries before running into a group of British and American students.


Lions, luduan, and nearly 12,000 dragons adorn the Palace.

Opting to explore Jingshan Park with my new acquaintances, we hiked up Prospect Hill for a sweeping view of the golden palace rooftops. Cool fact: the hill was created from all of the earth that was excavated when creating the palace moats. We also found the large locust tree where the last Ming emperor hung himself as rebels invaded the City.



Regretfully not continuing with them to the ancient hutongs (alleyways), I went back into the Forbidden City to see some of the gallery exhibits I’d missed. My favorite was The Palace of Earthly Tranquility: the lavishly decorated empress and concubine quarters. The exhibits contained beautiful antiquated robes, royal costumes, and jewelry.

I ran into an SAS group, and tagged along briefly before feeling guilty. Some indy SAS boys suggested I visit the Food Market several blocks away. Branching off a large pedestrian-only street, the Donghuamen Food Market catered just about any food imaginable: grasshoppers, kidneys, chicken hearts, smelly tofu, mystery meat on kabobs, yak butter and cheese…I got a meat gyro-looking thing. Not sure what it was, or even if it was sanitary. It probably would have gotten at “D” if the stall was a restaurant in Los Angeles. Ew. For dessert, I’d been seeing dozens of Chinese munching on kabobs of some sort, and it didn’t take long to discover the kabob vendor. They weren’t typical meat kabobs, but candied fruit kabobs. Possibly the best strawberries I’ve ever had in my life, coated in melted sugar.

Back at the hostel, we cleaned up for dinner (ie changed shirts), and headed out to see the famed Beijing Acrobats. We went to the Heaven & Earth Theatre on Dongzhimen Nandajie, where the young performers from the China Acrobatic Circus put on a spectacular performance. The joint-popping-perfect-balancing routines they performed were disgustingly fascinating. At one point, a woman was riding on a bicycle with about 18 other girls onboard, doing some sort of “Wall to Wall” (ala Bring it on).


***Photo by Jen

Continuing on to dinner, we went from restaurant to restaurant trying to find a readable menu. About an hour later, frustrated and freezing, we decided to try one last restaurant. Although they did not have English (or even readable characters) in their menus, we liked the ambience. Nicole and I had a fantastic time looking over the menu saying, “That sounds amazing!” and randomly pointing to an item on the menu. The waitress brought out a smorgasbord of dishes, all with varying degrees of spiciness…one of which was duck brain. No kidding. Well, actually, it was a whole roasted duck with its head cleaved in half. Izzy and I ate the brain.

Emily’s little Chinese phrasebook was a Godsend. “Just Enough Chinese may have saved our lives.” We used the book to find out what we were eating, and what to order more of. I also used my little sketchbook to draw pictures of creatures we wanted to try.

Upon our return to the hostel, Heather, Emily and I curled up and went to sleep while the others prepared for a night out. They jumped back into bed soon after, as no amount of alcohol could warm the freezing temperatures outside.

Day 78

Braving the cold and rainy morning, all 10 of us made it back to the main Leo Hostel building to meet our guide that would take us around Bejing (with a fee, of course). Our guide turned out to be Leo of Leo Hostel fame, founder and proprietor. First stop was the Summer Palace. We got there before the grounds opened to the public, but Leo slipped us through the gates for a tour of the elegant palace.

Nestled around Kunming Lake, the Summer Palace was the Hamptons of the imperial family and their royal entourage. We started out at the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity, where the emperor handled state affairs and met diplomats. Nearby stood the Garden of Virtue and Harmony (I just like saying the names, can’t you tell?), with a nice display of traditional costumes and props.

We hiked around the west side of the lake to South Lake Island and the Knowing in the Spring Pavillion. Outside of the 17-Arch Bridge was a strange game of handball, that all of us took place in. Kind of like tennis/lacrosse. On our way back to the van we bought dozens of shaomai (a moneybag shaped dumpling filled with meat) to keep us warm.

Our next stop was the Ming tombs in the Duijiu Valley. 13 of the 16 Ming emperors had been buried deep underground from 1368 to 1644 AD, but it was only when an earthquake shifted the land did archeologists discover the hidden tombs. Past the tunnel gates and diamond wall layed the emperors and their wives. Encased in large red sarcophaguses, the mummified bodies were found among jade sculptures and precious offerings. More pickled Asian leaders. Oh goody.

Our psychotic driver took us further through the mountains and the Juyong Pass. It was here, going about 80 miles and hour around winding curving mountain roads, in the snow, did Leo told us he’d been in jail for killing someone. OUR GUIDE MURDERED SOMEONE! He explained that he had killed his grandfather’s killer in revenge, and been sent to prison for 5 years. Upon being released, he decided to turn his life around and create a hostel. Which he did. Cool scary, freaking weird and scary that he told us driving through the desolate mountains.

We finally reached the Great Wall of China at Mutianyu. Spanning more than 5,000 kilometers, and visible from space, the famous Great Wall of China was just breathtaking. Literally. The laborious hike up the mountain to reach the Great Wall left us panting and breathless, but it was incredible. Unfortunately, we were unable to see great distances of the wall, but the cold weather made the experience unforgettable.

It snowed on the Great Wall. IT SNOWED. Hiking the Great Wall of China will be an experience I can never forget. Plucked from Southern California and dropped into snowy East Asia, I definitely felt like a foreigner. But in a good way. With my friends up top this amazing piece of history was unbelievable. The wind blew the snow up and over the Wall, and it was simply enchanting.


***Lydia and Nicole had opted to take a less vertical approach to climbing the Great Wall, and did the Bunny Slope version instead.

Up on the Wall, we found a vendor selling beer. And that’s it. He’d pack his donkey everyday, and haul dozens of cans of beer to the top for the tourists. Feeling sorry he’d seen very few tourists that day, all 8 of us nearly bought him out. I shot-gunned my first beer on the Great Wall.


***Cherish is holding up a piece of paper with the only Chinese text we learned: “Exit”

We remained huddled in the van for the hour-long drive back to Beijing, and everyone slept. We said our goodbyes to Leo and the driver, after cleaning up (ie changing shirts), went in search of dinner. We asked our European hostel neighbors what they suggested, and they directed us to a little restaurant down the alley. It was some of the best cheap food I’d had.

We met several other SAS kids at the main Leo Hostel, and half the hostel relocated to a Karaoke Bar in downtown. The opulently decorated bar was staggering, but the bad taste refreshing. There must have been about 30 student travelers from Leo Hostel, and for once the SASers were in the minority. Everyone had a fantastic time singing to classics and drinking Baijiu, the Chinese equivalent to Russian vodka or Mexican tequila. Super sweet, and incredibly potent, the stuff went down like rocket fuel. But it certainly loosened everyone up for Britney Spears or the Spice Girls (the songs I selected…duh).

Day 79

Having not showered for 3 nights (4 DAYS), we all begrudgingly tiptoed into the communal shower. Emily and I agreed: it was probably the best shower of our entire lives. And although it was probably the most disgusting facility I’d ever seen, we could have spent all day in the hot water.

Not waiting for the rest of the group to sober up, Emily, Heather, and I went back to the Food Market for brunch. I was much more brave this time around, and convinced Emily to have fried scorpion. The little arachnids were still wiggling on the kabob stick when they were thrown into the deep fryer. They tasted like crispy chicken skin, and were not half bad. We also had glass noodles, mystery-meat kabobs, and awkward sweet/spicy pastry things. We ended our meal with the incredible candy-coated fruit kabobs.

With several hours left in Beijing, we walked out to the Xiushui Silk Market. This 5-storyed mall-like building was lined with stalls selling fake designer goods, shoes, backpacks, to appliances and furniture. I got a pair of 7 Jeans for $10. (Guess I didn’t need that pair from Neiman Marcus I got for Christmas…just kidding. Yes I do.) I also bought some amazing Puma knockoffs, but the overly abrasive and aggressive merchants got the better of us.

With the rest of our party, and armfuls of merchandise, we all headed back to the hotel for one last dinner. We stocked up on beer, candy, snacks, and Hello Koalas (little chocolate flavored puffy cookies) at a convenient store in preparation for our 10-hour night train to Qingdao. I think the scorpions must have spawned in my stomach, because after an hour of being on the train my head was pounding and my guts being twisted into knots. We’d all plugged ourselves with Imodium and Pepto though, so I miraculously remained unscathed. Everyone else stayed and chatted while I returned to the safety of the sleeper car and slept until morning.

Day 80

Qingdao is one of China’s largest and most industrial port cities. Located on the Yellow Sea, it was developed by the Germans in the late 1800s. The beautiful red-tiled roofs and European-style buildings and gardens were a far cry from the megalopolis that was Hong Kong. For those of you with quirked eyebrows, the Explorer set sail from Hong Kong and docked in Qingdao. It had remained in Hong Kong’s port for two days, then been at sea for two, and in Qingdao for another two. The days at sea were not mandatory, and only about 80 unadventurous students stayed onboard, watching movies, lounging in the sun, dining on incredibly nice catered meals, and just hanging out.

We had arrived in Qingdao at about 6am, and unable to fall back asleep I found Mark, Shaela, and Katie at breakfast (these are some of the losers that stayed on the ship). Having not been in Qingdao, I decided to join them for a visit to yet another market. We had incredible dumplings at a dumpling shop, candied fruit kabobs, and…zhen zhu nai cha (sp?). Bubble tea. Boba. Beverage with tapioca balls. A drink with wads of phlegm. Whatever you call it, zhen zhu nai cha is possibly the best thing to come out of Asia. In all my 6 days, this was also the only word in Chinese I learned.

Our final stop in Qingdao was to the Tsingtao Brewery. One of the oldest Chinese beer breweries, it was founded by the Germans, temporarily owned by the Japanese, and recently formed a merger with Anheuser Bush. The Fordist assembly line was efficient and fascinating. I felt like Obi Wan Kenobi in Attack of the Clones watching the production line from a suspended glass tunnel.

A bit overwhelmed, and wanting to escape the hoards of drunken SAS students partying in the brewery’s bar, Shaela, Mark and I left Katie to her fate and returned to the ship. After a brief digital slide show, we excitedly watched Hero to catch a few last glimpses of China’s Forbidden City, and assimilate back into ship life.

I am so glad I traveled independently throughout China, and as you can tell I had a fantastic time. You may also remember my opening remarks: “I hate China.” Why? I purposely left all the bad for last.

1) The people.

The Chinese were some of the rudest, most disgusting, annoying people out of any country I’ve visited. The over-aggressive street vendors would often thwack you in the arms and ribs with their merchandise, or grab and latch onto your arm or neck in an attempt to get you to stay and buy their shit. WHAT THE FUCK? In an attempt to not lose my temper and not act the way I imagine most tourists do, I would instead plant a huge kiss on the merchant. Man or woman, I didn’t care. It certainly stopped them dead in their tracks. Too embarrassed and shocked to retaliate, they would release their iron grip on me I could quickly make my getaway. Chinese regard for personal space is less than that of the Indians in India. In line to cross the street, they’d stand close enough for you to be able to feel their breath on your neck (Okay, maybe shoulder blades, as the average Chinese stood about 5 feet tall. Actually, that’s one thing I loved about China – for once, I was tall!).

And the spitting? Ugh. You simply could NOT walk around the city for one minute without hearing the snnnooorrrrk-phew! of a Chinese spitting the nastiest loogey on the ground. Men, women, children - making deposits to the mucus banks in bulk. The first time I was in the Food Market, someone accidentally spit on my foot, and I went ape shit. Thank God they didn’t understand a word of English I was screaming…

2) The language barrier.

Now, this is not something that can be controlled, and it’s a sign of my own egocentricity expecting people of a foreign country to understand me. But China is hosting the fucking 2008 Olympic Games, and I was only able to communicate with maybe 5 people in four days. Good luck with that, China.

It’s not like the French assholes who just brush you off or pretend to not understand you, these people have NO IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON. The average Chinese will nod, clueless, and accidentally send you down a street of whores and drug dealers. Or maybe it was on purpose after all.

Also, barely any of the street signs were in legible writing – it was all Chinese characters. Again, it’s a sign of my own ignorant self to expect English signs…but Beijing is China’s biggest tourist destination. And remember those Olympic Games that are coming up? Good luck visitors.

3) The Olympic Games.

Just about everything in Beijing was covered in scaffolding. Because spending billions of renminbi (Chinese money) making the city shine is going to be that much more pleasant for Olympians. The city will seem beautiful and shiny and new…but is only going to contrast with the horrible, awful, obnoxious denizens of the city. Let the city remain dirty, and the people only slightly worse.

4) The bathrooms.

I love toilets. You know, those beautiful white or cream porcelain bowls with seat and lid, silver flush lever attached to a water basin, and sometimes even blue water freshener? Well, they’ve never heard of them here in China. China’s fecal/waste disposal system has remained untouched since feudal times. Actually, no, that’s wrong. They sometimes have toilet paper now. Sometimes.

The toilets were nothing more than a hole in the ground, meant for shitters to squat over, shake, dangle, and walk away from. Seriously, those thigh muscles must be intense. Not only did the bathrooms reek of – you guessed it – shit, but there were hardly any partitions between the holes. You’d be sitting next to your fellow shitter, and could basically see his balls. And if someone opted to piss in the hole next to you…well, it’s at a very convienient height for…uh…I’m not going there.

I think I’m completely justified in saying China was my least favorite cultural experience. Interesting, yes. But I would be content not returning to China. Unless, of course, Jet Li or Ziyi Zhang ask me to work on their next movie.

***PS I ate dog.
***Thanks to Mary/Gary and Loverface for the postcards!!