12/15/09
12:21am
I just boarded the MV Explorer for the first time in 7 months for the celebratory dinner of Semester at Sea’s 100th voyage and I am overwhelmed with emotion. I cannot believe it has been nearly a year since my adventure first began.
Boarding the ship was so familiar and yet so different. I was greeted by the faces of students, faculty and staff that I saw daily for three and a half months of my life. Yet the ship was also teeming with people who I have never met. There were alumni from last year, two years ago, ten years ago, even those from the very first voyage in 1960s. There were children that have sailed the ship or whose parents traveled the ocean blue on Semester at Sea, as well as those with graying hair and walkers. But amongst so many strangers, I knew we all are connected. Everyone on the ship tonight has been changed by Semester at Sea – whether it was an alumni, a parent of an alumni, or a friend. It opened our eyes to the world. It challenged us. It introduced us to our best friends, our future spouses, our families. It was the time of our lives.
As I walked those halls, sat on Deck 7, took in the San Diego port, I reminisced about the daily minutiae of the ship – the laughs, the food, the waves. As I listened to the poignant words of a student from the first voyage and a student from the voyage that just docked today, I was overcome with happiness and sadness. Elated to be back on the ship, grateful to have such memories, touched to know so many others know this feeling. Grieving that the trip is over, sad not all my SAS friends were there with me, disappointed that I haven’t kept all the promises I made to myself at the end of it. Tears rolled down my cheeks as we watched a video of every port of the latest voyage. People around cheered for different ports, nodded their heads at saying and images. They all know. They know South Africa, they know India….they just know. When Kobe and Yokohama, Japan came up on the screen I had to stifle a sob. Japan gave me faith. Do I still have it?
I am so glad that I went tonight. It reminded me that I am a part of the world - the whole world, not just my own. It reminded me that I have to keep traveling. It is not an option. It reminded me of everything that was SAS – it is in my blood now and forever and I want to stay involved. It reminded me of the happiest time in my life. I might go cry now. Or dream happy dreams of my past and future travels. Or both.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Okay, this is REST of Guatemala
6/5
We finally came to a clearing and could see two volcanoes in our midst. What a view. Dark ashy hills in the middle of luscious green forests, and hot, bubbling, fire-orange lava oozing down the sides. Not your typical sight. After everyone did a quick photo shoot of the breathtaking surroundings, our guide told us we had to run down this steep hill of ash in order to get to the actual volcano. We thought he was kidding because it was seriously steep, and all of sudden he disappeared down the side of the hill, running full speed. George and his dad followed suit. I was hesitant but once I started slipping and sliding down this hill of ash, I realized how much fun it was to go really fast. I just let it happen. My shoes were completely filled with ash, but I was laughing hysterically the entire way down. It was so much fun. I asked if we could do it again once we reached the bottom but the answer was no. Party poopers.
We were finally on the volcano. Standing on hardened lava, or pahoehoe as the Hawaiians call it. Now let me tell you, pahoehoe is quite jagged and unstable. It would crumble away under your feet, so our guide told us to be careful where we stepped. Well probably within seconds of his warning I stepped on a piece of pahoehoe that launched backwards into my shin. I bled profusely. Well, not really, but I did bleed and got blood on my shoes AND now I have a nice little scar to remind me of my carelessness on a Guatemalan volcano. Not bad.
We continued hiking up and up the pahoehoe until we reached the area where lava was seeping out. It was so bright and so hot. I felt like my face was melting. Some people got a little freaked out when we got close to the lava. They were all, “Okay, cool let’s go now. Okay. OKAY! Move!” I was loving it, though. I roasted a mallow (marshmallow) on the lava. It was one of those fruity-tasting mallows. Pretty good. I think I had like blueberry or something. I don’t know. It tasted like a sweet tart.
Then we climbed over to this rushing river of lava. Just a rushing rive of lava…no big deal. It was wild. What if someone fell in? Or what if I just put my hand in really quick? I kept asking questions like those and people got annoyed.
Then we had this awesome bag lunch provided by the tour company. It was soo good. Usually the SAS provided bag lunches suck, but this was good. Great sandwich, tasty vegetable chips, AND a cookie. Jackpot. Except there was this really gross like raisin juice. Do not recommend trying the raisin juice.
Once we hiked back down off of the volcano and back to our bus, Jill and I hoped to go to Antigua because it was really close to Pacaya. Unfortunately, not everyone on our bus wanted to go so we had to go all the way back to the ship and hope to find another ride there. It was unfortunate because we could have cut out a lot of driving time and had a longer night in Antigua, but we dealt. Jill graciously shared an earphone with me and we napped the whole way back to the ship.
We got back to the ship around 5, and we asked our tour guide Chicki if he knew of any good ways to get to Antigua. He told us that there was a van taking all of the other tour guides to their homes that night that could stop in Antigua, and he could see if we could tag along. He also offered to take us to his friend’s beach house. We declined in hopes to reach Antigua someway somehow, instead.
So Chicki talked to the van driver, who agreed to take us along. He said it would be a half hour, so Jill and I rushed onto the ship to pack a bag and shower our ash-caked bodies off. We then came running off the ship in a hurry, only to find that the other tour guides wouldn’t be done until 7 or 7:30. We looked foolish just sitting around on the port and everyone seemed to be confused, so after securing the ride for $15 each we went back on the ship and ate dinner.
At around 7 we came back out and hopped in the van, waiting for just one more tour guide. The sky was darkening with storm clouds and we could see lightening in the distance. Soon it began to rain lightly, then to pour. The final tour guide arrived and hopped in the van. And off we went. Jill, me, two Guatemalan tour guides, and our driver driving in a torrential rainstorm on the not-so safe streets of Guatemala.
Jill and I watched as the sky would light up and crackle with lightening and we were thankful that our driver didn’t speed. We both dozed off from time to time and we would awaken with a start, wondering, “Where are we now? How long until Antigua? Is this a good idea? Are we on the drive to our deaths?” Well we lived….obviously. And the driver and tour guides were very nice and helpful. They dropped us off in Antigua at this hostel called El Gato Negro, where some of our friends were staying. We thanked them and paid and hopped out.
We immediately saw some SASers at the hostel and we went in to ask for a room. It was booked. Damn. We wandered the streets a bit, stopping at every hostel and hotel. Every place was booked, so we met up with Riley and Braxton at this nice Guatemalan restaurant and ate chips and guac and chile con rellenos (I don’t remember what that is exactly, but I saw it on Jill’s blog). While we ate this fabulous musician sang and played the guitar. His fingers moved so deftly and quickly. He was talented, I said.
Once our bellies were full, Jill and I went in search for a place to spend the night. Riley tagged along. We finally came across this place called Posada Asjemenou Hotel, where Jill and I could stay for $35 total for the night. Awesome! We put our stuff down, changed, and went off to meet some friends at a hookah bar near by. Upon my return home I found out that Clare has been to the hookah bar and Frida’s this bar we went to while in Antigua. Small world.
The hookah bar was quite entertaining. Right as we came in, Daina was carrying a plate of strawberry shortcake a la mode above her head while dancing. The huge scoop of ice cream toppled off the plate, bounced off her head, slid down her arm, and plopped onto the floor. I died laughing. And then within seconds some other customers were exiting the bar and one guy slipped on the huge dollop of ice cream before anyone could stop him. I died for a second time. Jill and I teased Daina for the rest of the voyage, because of this little stunt.
After our respite in the hookah bar, we went to a bar called Frida’s, named for Frida Kahlo. Her artwork hung from every wall and surprisingly I ran into my art teacher, Faye while in this bar. She was having some drinks with some fellow SAS professors. Good times.
Frida’s slowly filled with SASers, as we were now accustomed to when going out in port. Jill and I went to the upstairs portion of the bar and danced with some local dancers who took us on the dance floor and started spinning, twirling, and dipping us. I struggled through the dance moves, but enjoyed myself nonetheless. Jill and I danced and laughed and enjoyed ourselves til about 2am or so and then headed back to our hotel room.
We slept in until about 10 the next morning and got some much needed rest. When we both woke up Jill hopped in bed with me and spooned and giggled and belted out the songs playing on her iPhone. We got dressed and ready to check out only to find that breakfast was included. Best news ever. I got banana pancakes (and sang Jack Johnson’s Banana Pancakes for the entire day to follow) and Jill got scrambled eggs and black beans. We dined in the sunny courtyard of this hotel, under a yellow umbrella with flowers and plants and fountains engulfing us. It was perfect. This was our last breakfast in port. Our last day in port. We were one week away from being home…for good. It was a bittersweet feeling. We pondered whether life would ever be so perfect again, if we would be this incredibly happy again, how our lives would change.
Then we set off to explore Antigua in the light of day, without the pouring rain. We walked along the cobblestone streets, between the warmly painted buildings, under the town archways. We came across this bright canary yellow church, with music emanating from inside. Jill and I went in, to find vaulted ceilings, rows and rows of pews, painting and statues of Christ, and three singers sitting at the altar. We sat in a pew to take in this lovely sight. There were two male singers and one female and their harmonies were beautiful. Music always has a way of uniting people and reminding them of the beauty in this world.
Jill and I left the cathedral in a somber and spiritual mood. We had been overwhelmed with emotion. We were so thankful for our opportunities, so blessed, and yet so sad that it was all coming to an end.
We ventured on, got some fresh fruit smoothies, and found the market. We traipsed through the market, reminded of the many other markets we have seen. Reminded of all the bartering, the countless souvenirs, the sneaky vendors. All so different, yet so similar. Next we wanted to go to this peak overlooking the city, but we didn’t have enough time because we had to find a ride back to the ship. We were getting a little bit apprehensive about finding a ride that wasn’t too expensive and that would actually get back in time before the ship set sail. So we walked towards the city center, which was swarming with SASers. Within about 15 minutes we had been offered several rides by a few different groups of friends and we took the cheapest one that was about $7 a person, in a squished van full of people. Not the most comfortable thing, but we didn’t care. We found a cheap ride. Things always work out.
We arrived back in Puerto Quetzal and dropped our things off at the ship. Jill and I went out to use some free internet and spend our last Quetzales. The internet didn’t work, but I got some great, colorful headbands. Then it was back to the ship. We took the shuttle back. We rode on top of the van with Brendan and Mike and everyone else’s luggage. Safe? No. But it was our last little adventure for…a long time.
Our bags and bodies got searched by security for the last time, we walked up the gangway for the last time, and we pulled away from the land for the last time. It was weird. It was sad. It was exciting.
So that was my last country. My last port. Then I was on the ship for a week. Which of course FLEW by. Filled with tests, projects, games, friends, laughs, sunsets, movies, ship food, and on the final day many many tears. Who knew I would get so emotional. Every person I hugged goodbye brought on another wave of emotions. My eyes were puffy and red when I finally got off the ship and hugged my dad. Back in America. Back home. Back for good? No. I’ll be out there again soon.
Signing off.
We finally came to a clearing and could see two volcanoes in our midst. What a view. Dark ashy hills in the middle of luscious green forests, and hot, bubbling, fire-orange lava oozing down the sides. Not your typical sight. After everyone did a quick photo shoot of the breathtaking surroundings, our guide told us we had to run down this steep hill of ash in order to get to the actual volcano. We thought he was kidding because it was seriously steep, and all of sudden he disappeared down the side of the hill, running full speed. George and his dad followed suit. I was hesitant but once I started slipping and sliding down this hill of ash, I realized how much fun it was to go really fast. I just let it happen. My shoes were completely filled with ash, but I was laughing hysterically the entire way down. It was so much fun. I asked if we could do it again once we reached the bottom but the answer was no. Party poopers.
We were finally on the volcano. Standing on hardened lava, or pahoehoe as the Hawaiians call it. Now let me tell you, pahoehoe is quite jagged and unstable. It would crumble away under your feet, so our guide told us to be careful where we stepped. Well probably within seconds of his warning I stepped on a piece of pahoehoe that launched backwards into my shin. I bled profusely. Well, not really, but I did bleed and got blood on my shoes AND now I have a nice little scar to remind me of my carelessness on a Guatemalan volcano. Not bad.
We continued hiking up and up the pahoehoe until we reached the area where lava was seeping out. It was so bright and so hot. I felt like my face was melting. Some people got a little freaked out when we got close to the lava. They were all, “Okay, cool let’s go now. Okay. OKAY! Move!” I was loving it, though. I roasted a mallow (marshmallow) on the lava. It was one of those fruity-tasting mallows. Pretty good. I think I had like blueberry or something. I don’t know. It tasted like a sweet tart.
Then we climbed over to this rushing river of lava. Just a rushing rive of lava…no big deal. It was wild. What if someone fell in? Or what if I just put my hand in really quick? I kept asking questions like those and people got annoyed.
Then we had this awesome bag lunch provided by the tour company. It was soo good. Usually the SAS provided bag lunches suck, but this was good. Great sandwich, tasty vegetable chips, AND a cookie. Jackpot. Except there was this really gross like raisin juice. Do not recommend trying the raisin juice.
Once we hiked back down off of the volcano and back to our bus, Jill and I hoped to go to Antigua because it was really close to Pacaya. Unfortunately, not everyone on our bus wanted to go so we had to go all the way back to the ship and hope to find another ride there. It was unfortunate because we could have cut out a lot of driving time and had a longer night in Antigua, but we dealt. Jill graciously shared an earphone with me and we napped the whole way back to the ship.
We got back to the ship around 5, and we asked our tour guide Chicki if he knew of any good ways to get to Antigua. He told us that there was a van taking all of the other tour guides to their homes that night that could stop in Antigua, and he could see if we could tag along. He also offered to take us to his friend’s beach house. We declined in hopes to reach Antigua someway somehow, instead.
So Chicki talked to the van driver, who agreed to take us along. He said it would be a half hour, so Jill and I rushed onto the ship to pack a bag and shower our ash-caked bodies off. We then came running off the ship in a hurry, only to find that the other tour guides wouldn’t be done until 7 or 7:30. We looked foolish just sitting around on the port and everyone seemed to be confused, so after securing the ride for $15 each we went back on the ship and ate dinner.
At around 7 we came back out and hopped in the van, waiting for just one more tour guide. The sky was darkening with storm clouds and we could see lightening in the distance. Soon it began to rain lightly, then to pour. The final tour guide arrived and hopped in the van. And off we went. Jill, me, two Guatemalan tour guides, and our driver driving in a torrential rainstorm on the not-so safe streets of Guatemala.
Jill and I watched as the sky would light up and crackle with lightening and we were thankful that our driver didn’t speed. We both dozed off from time to time and we would awaken with a start, wondering, “Where are we now? How long until Antigua? Is this a good idea? Are we on the drive to our deaths?” Well we lived….obviously. And the driver and tour guides were very nice and helpful. They dropped us off in Antigua at this hostel called El Gato Negro, where some of our friends were staying. We thanked them and paid and hopped out.
We immediately saw some SASers at the hostel and we went in to ask for a room. It was booked. Damn. We wandered the streets a bit, stopping at every hostel and hotel. Every place was booked, so we met up with Riley and Braxton at this nice Guatemalan restaurant and ate chips and guac and chile con rellenos (I don’t remember what that is exactly, but I saw it on Jill’s blog). While we ate this fabulous musician sang and played the guitar. His fingers moved so deftly and quickly. He was talented, I said.
Once our bellies were full, Jill and I went in search for a place to spend the night. Riley tagged along. We finally came across this place called Posada Asjemenou Hotel, where Jill and I could stay for $35 total for the night. Awesome! We put our stuff down, changed, and went off to meet some friends at a hookah bar near by. Upon my return home I found out that Clare has been to the hookah bar and Frida’s this bar we went to while in Antigua. Small world.
The hookah bar was quite entertaining. Right as we came in, Daina was carrying a plate of strawberry shortcake a la mode above her head while dancing. The huge scoop of ice cream toppled off the plate, bounced off her head, slid down her arm, and plopped onto the floor. I died laughing. And then within seconds some other customers were exiting the bar and one guy slipped on the huge dollop of ice cream before anyone could stop him. I died for a second time. Jill and I teased Daina for the rest of the voyage, because of this little stunt.
After our respite in the hookah bar, we went to a bar called Frida’s, named for Frida Kahlo. Her artwork hung from every wall and surprisingly I ran into my art teacher, Faye while in this bar. She was having some drinks with some fellow SAS professors. Good times.
Frida’s slowly filled with SASers, as we were now accustomed to when going out in port. Jill and I went to the upstairs portion of the bar and danced with some local dancers who took us on the dance floor and started spinning, twirling, and dipping us. I struggled through the dance moves, but enjoyed myself nonetheless. Jill and I danced and laughed and enjoyed ourselves til about 2am or so and then headed back to our hotel room.
We slept in until about 10 the next morning and got some much needed rest. When we both woke up Jill hopped in bed with me and spooned and giggled and belted out the songs playing on her iPhone. We got dressed and ready to check out only to find that breakfast was included. Best news ever. I got banana pancakes (and sang Jack Johnson’s Banana Pancakes for the entire day to follow) and Jill got scrambled eggs and black beans. We dined in the sunny courtyard of this hotel, under a yellow umbrella with flowers and plants and fountains engulfing us. It was perfect. This was our last breakfast in port. Our last day in port. We were one week away from being home…for good. It was a bittersweet feeling. We pondered whether life would ever be so perfect again, if we would be this incredibly happy again, how our lives would change.
Then we set off to explore Antigua in the light of day, without the pouring rain. We walked along the cobblestone streets, between the warmly painted buildings, under the town archways. We came across this bright canary yellow church, with music emanating from inside. Jill and I went in, to find vaulted ceilings, rows and rows of pews, painting and statues of Christ, and three singers sitting at the altar. We sat in a pew to take in this lovely sight. There were two male singers and one female and their harmonies were beautiful. Music always has a way of uniting people and reminding them of the beauty in this world.
Jill and I left the cathedral in a somber and spiritual mood. We had been overwhelmed with emotion. We were so thankful for our opportunities, so blessed, and yet so sad that it was all coming to an end.
We ventured on, got some fresh fruit smoothies, and found the market. We traipsed through the market, reminded of the many other markets we have seen. Reminded of all the bartering, the countless souvenirs, the sneaky vendors. All so different, yet so similar. Next we wanted to go to this peak overlooking the city, but we didn’t have enough time because we had to find a ride back to the ship. We were getting a little bit apprehensive about finding a ride that wasn’t too expensive and that would actually get back in time before the ship set sail. So we walked towards the city center, which was swarming with SASers. Within about 15 minutes we had been offered several rides by a few different groups of friends and we took the cheapest one that was about $7 a person, in a squished van full of people. Not the most comfortable thing, but we didn’t care. We found a cheap ride. Things always work out.
We arrived back in Puerto Quetzal and dropped our things off at the ship. Jill and I went out to use some free internet and spend our last Quetzales. The internet didn’t work, but I got some great, colorful headbands. Then it was back to the ship. We took the shuttle back. We rode on top of the van with Brendan and Mike and everyone else’s luggage. Safe? No. But it was our last little adventure for…a long time.
Our bags and bodies got searched by security for the last time, we walked up the gangway for the last time, and we pulled away from the land for the last time. It was weird. It was sad. It was exciting.
So that was my last country. My last port. Then I was on the ship for a week. Which of course FLEW by. Filled with tests, projects, games, friends, laughs, sunsets, movies, ship food, and on the final day many many tears. Who knew I would get so emotional. Every person I hugged goodbye brought on another wave of emotions. My eyes were puffy and red when I finally got off the ship and hugged my dad. Back in America. Back home. Back for good? No. I’ll be out there again soon.
Signing off.
Thanks for the world
6/5/09
12:34
So I have been home for four weeks now. I am well rested and well…restless. My summer job fell through and although I’ve applied to numerous locations, I have yet to be hired. Don’t they know that I am a world traveler and can handle anything they throw at me? Whether it be a tall skim latte with extra whip or cleaning the ellipticals at the gym? C’MON! I will do anything! I am desperate and broke.
So I am twenty years old and I have seen the world. Not many people can say that and I know that I am extremely fortunate. I would like to thank everyone who helped me to have the time of my life.
Thanks to Dad for being so supportive, for funding this adventure, for keeping up with all of the USD paperwork while I was away, and for keeping me posted on the goings on of 54th and Drew.
Thanks to my mom for being my rock when I needed her to be, for being my #1 blob supporter, and for making me smile from thousands of miles away.
Thanks to Katie for the little notes and pictures that I could hang on my wall to remind me of friends and family, for bringing tears to my eyes when she told me the latest Liv stories, and for encouraging my art.
Thanks to Nate for the e-mails. As he is not one to return an e-mail….well ever, I was very grateful for his many detailed and humorous e-mails.
Thanks to Marbo, Mally, Weiner, Mobecks, and Clareybear for being such avid readers of the blob, (such faithful readers that they actually quote the blob sometimes….embarrassing.) And thanks for listening to the privy details that were excluded from the blob. You guys are THE best friends.
Thanks to my AXO sisters in San Diego for staying in touch and keeping me posted on the USD saga. Especially Carson, Juls, and Jaclyn. I love you guys. A LOT. LITB
Thanks to Marlys for always reading my stories and for her sweet e-mails, reminding me of the good times in MN. Always in my prayers Mar.
Thanks to Sam. Pretty much my only guy friend who read, or even knew I was writing journals while I was abroad. You’re a good friend Sam.
Thanks to the entire Anderson, Peterson, and Richardson clan who read about my travels and who wrote to me. I felt extremely loved around the world and blessed to have such a supportive family to come home to.
And finally thank you to my new best friends. Semester at Sea Spring ’09 would not have been the same without Jill, Caroline, Alicia, Nancy, Lexi, Greg, Lia, Steve, Hussain, Disha, Keith, Riley, Doug, Win, and Braxton….and basically the entire ship. Thanks for the sunsets, the meals, the laughs, the memories, and the lifelong friendships.
Since I’ve been home, I’ve eaten my fair share of DQ (this wouldn’t be a Hannah blob if didn’t mention food, right?) and I’ve reconnected with good friends and family, I’ve re-acclimated to life in the US. Perhaps too well.
I don’t want to forget what I’ve learned. I don’t want to just go back to my old life. I want to remember to live each day like you only have four days in that country so you have to see as much as possible. I want to remember to ask for help when I need it. I want to remember that people are good. I want to remember patience. I want to remember confidence. I want to remember ultimate bliss. I want to remember to give back, because I have so much to give back and I have so much more than others. I want to remember to stay connected with the world. Read newspapers. Remember that. I want to keep doing art. I want to forget itineraries and schedules. I want to stay in touch with all my friends. I want to keep traveling…forever.
I want to and so I will. But it’s harder than I thought. So please help me. Help me do it. And thanks.
Love love,
H
12:34
So I have been home for four weeks now. I am well rested and well…restless. My summer job fell through and although I’ve applied to numerous locations, I have yet to be hired. Don’t they know that I am a world traveler and can handle anything they throw at me? Whether it be a tall skim latte with extra whip or cleaning the ellipticals at the gym? C’MON! I will do anything! I am desperate and broke.
So I am twenty years old and I have seen the world. Not many people can say that and I know that I am extremely fortunate. I would like to thank everyone who helped me to have the time of my life.
Thanks to Dad for being so supportive, for funding this adventure, for keeping up with all of the USD paperwork while I was away, and for keeping me posted on the goings on of 54th and Drew.
Thanks to my mom for being my rock when I needed her to be, for being my #1 blob supporter, and for making me smile from thousands of miles away.
Thanks to Katie for the little notes and pictures that I could hang on my wall to remind me of friends and family, for bringing tears to my eyes when she told me the latest Liv stories, and for encouraging my art.
Thanks to Nate for the e-mails. As he is not one to return an e-mail….well ever, I was very grateful for his many detailed and humorous e-mails.
Thanks to Marbo, Mally, Weiner, Mobecks, and Clareybear for being such avid readers of the blob, (such faithful readers that they actually quote the blob sometimes….embarrassing.) And thanks for listening to the privy details that were excluded from the blob. You guys are THE best friends.
Thanks to my AXO sisters in San Diego for staying in touch and keeping me posted on the USD saga. Especially Carson, Juls, and Jaclyn. I love you guys. A LOT. LITB
Thanks to Marlys for always reading my stories and for her sweet e-mails, reminding me of the good times in MN. Always in my prayers Mar.
Thanks to Sam. Pretty much my only guy friend who read, or even knew I was writing journals while I was abroad. You’re a good friend Sam.
Thanks to the entire Anderson, Peterson, and Richardson clan who read about my travels and who wrote to me. I felt extremely loved around the world and blessed to have such a supportive family to come home to.
And finally thank you to my new best friends. Semester at Sea Spring ’09 would not have been the same without Jill, Caroline, Alicia, Nancy, Lexi, Greg, Lia, Steve, Hussain, Disha, Keith, Riley, Doug, Win, and Braxton….and basically the entire ship. Thanks for the sunsets, the meals, the laughs, the memories, and the lifelong friendships.
Since I’ve been home, I’ve eaten my fair share of DQ (this wouldn’t be a Hannah blob if didn’t mention food, right?) and I’ve reconnected with good friends and family, I’ve re-acclimated to life in the US. Perhaps too well.
I don’t want to forget what I’ve learned. I don’t want to just go back to my old life. I want to remember to live each day like you only have four days in that country so you have to see as much as possible. I want to remember to ask for help when I need it. I want to remember that people are good. I want to remember patience. I want to remember confidence. I want to remember ultimate bliss. I want to remember to give back, because I have so much to give back and I have so much more than others. I want to remember to stay connected with the world. Read newspapers. Remember that. I want to keep doing art. I want to forget itineraries and schedules. I want to stay in touch with all my friends. I want to keep traveling…forever.
I want to and so I will. But it’s harder than I thought. So please help me. Help me do it. And thanks.
Love love,
H
Friday, May 22, 2009
Little more Guats
5/13/09
9:19
**then I wrote this about a week ago, but I got carsick while writing so I had to stop….how ironic
So I wrote all that a week ago. While I was still on the ship. Now I am home in Minnesota. I’m actually currently on my way to pick up my car from Houston, Minnesota. Yay my very own set of wheels! I was wondering how I would go about picking up my car, completely forgetting that there is , in fact, public transportation in the United States and I can use it! Who knew?
So let me finish my Guatemalan adventures. Jill and I waited outside the ship for our bus to arrive to take us to Pacaya Volcano. We held onto our trips tickets that we are required to give to the trip leaders. Well…I held onto my ticket. Jill “lost” hers. She says it blew away in the wind, but that just seems like a lie. She actually did lose her ticket, but the trip leader seemed a bit skeptical and her nickname for the day was GWTBA (Girl Whose Ticket Blew Away).
Once on the bus we met our topnotch tour guide Chiki. He was pretty entertaining, knowledgeable, and rather cute…for a short guy. He pointed out the steaming volcanoes in the distance and then Jill and I proceeded to PTFO (pass the F out). I kept jolting awake whenever my mouth would fall open, though, because I guess subconsciously I get embarrassed when I sleep with my mouth open. Just a little interesting fact about me.
About an hour and a half later we arrived at Pacaya. As we got off the bus, it was swarmed with little children trying to sell us walking sticks or marshmallows or a horse-ride up the volcano. I didn’t partake in any of these superfluous items, but many of my fellow SASers did including my favorite faculty dependent, George. George is a second grader and he is hilarious. First of all, he lifts weights up on Deck 7 with all the big boys. He makes the funniest faces while on the weight machines too. I crack up every time. On the hike he would jam his walking stick into the ground, or hit branches and plants with it, and eventually he resorted to throwing his walking stick like a javelin. What a kid.
9:19
**then I wrote this about a week ago, but I got carsick while writing so I had to stop….how ironic
So I wrote all that a week ago. While I was still on the ship. Now I am home in Minnesota. I’m actually currently on my way to pick up my car from Houston, Minnesota. Yay my very own set of wheels! I was wondering how I would go about picking up my car, completely forgetting that there is , in fact, public transportation in the United States and I can use it! Who knew?
So let me finish my Guatemalan adventures. Jill and I waited outside the ship for our bus to arrive to take us to Pacaya Volcano. We held onto our trips tickets that we are required to give to the trip leaders. Well…I held onto my ticket. Jill “lost” hers. She says it blew away in the wind, but that just seems like a lie. She actually did lose her ticket, but the trip leader seemed a bit skeptical and her nickname for the day was GWTBA (Girl Whose Ticket Blew Away).
Once on the bus we met our topnotch tour guide Chiki. He was pretty entertaining, knowledgeable, and rather cute…for a short guy. He pointed out the steaming volcanoes in the distance and then Jill and I proceeded to PTFO (pass the F out). I kept jolting awake whenever my mouth would fall open, though, because I guess subconsciously I get embarrassed when I sleep with my mouth open. Just a little interesting fact about me.
About an hour and a half later we arrived at Pacaya. As we got off the bus, it was swarmed with little children trying to sell us walking sticks or marshmallows or a horse-ride up the volcano. I didn’t partake in any of these superfluous items, but many of my fellow SASers did including my favorite faculty dependent, George. George is a second grader and he is hilarious. First of all, he lifts weights up on Deck 7 with all the big boys. He makes the funniest faces while on the weight machines too. I crack up every time. On the hike he would jam his walking stick into the ground, or hit branches and plants with it, and eventually he resorted to throwing his walking stick like a javelin. What a kid.
Guaaaats
5/4/09
11:17
*I wrote this all like three weeks ago and never posted it….my bad
I found a dress and shoes for the ball. Took lots of pics on my top-notch disposable camera…told everyone I’d give them doubles. It was pretty funny to be like, “Don’t forget to wind it! Oh is the flash on?” Funny and obnoxious at the same time. No worries I’ll just get all of Jill’s photos.
So ‘Guats’ in the words of Win. The trip has come full circle. We started out in a Spanish-speaking country, we ended in a Spanish-speaking country. I traveled with Greg, Alicia, Caroline, Lia, and Jill a few days in Spain, I traveled with them for a few days in Guats. I stayed at Cat’s Hostel in Spain, I almost stayed in a hostel called El Gato Negro in Guats. Interesting, eh?
The first day I skipped the diplomatic briefing because I had stayed up pretty late the night before. I’m glad I did, though, because the diplomats just freaked everyone out and made some people not even want to get off the ship. Overall in Guatemala I felt pretty safe. I’m sure if I lived there permanently I would not feel the same, but in my brief time there I was never really uneasy or fearful for my well-being.
At about 10:30 or 11 we got off the ship. There were shuttles running every 15 minutes or half hour that took us from the port to the city entrance, because it was a pretty long walk otherwise. Greg, Alicia, Caroline, Jill, Brendan, Lia, Mike, and I took the shuttle and began to barter with taxi drivers to find a good price to go to Puerto Istapa. There was one taxi service at the city entrance charging ridiculous prices for a ride because they knew we had no other choice unless we wanted to take a long walk into the city. We finally found a ride for $5 a person and we hopped in the taxi van.
We had decided to go to this little city called Istapa because according to the pictures and little excerpts on it given by SAS at the Field Office, it is a nice little town with a beautiful black sand beach and lagoon. Well, either the Field Office lied or something changed drastically since those pictures were taken. The town was tiny, there were only locals and when we got to the “beach”…well do the quotations explain that?
Our taxi driver dropped us off at this little shack on the water facing a sandbar. He gives us his number so we can call him to get a ride back and then he calls over the man who is supposed to take us in one of these rickety, old boats lining the shoreline, across the dirty lagoon to the sandbar where the beach is. The boys had wanted to go deep-sea fishing here, because they had also read that was possible. So while they were checking to see if they could get fishing poles and other gear, all of us girls played with the cutest little puppy EVER. There were so many stray, mangy dogs in Guatemala. So many sickly puppies. It was sad.
Turns out, the boys couldn’t go fishing so instead we just decided to just hang out for a while, maybe get some lunch on the beach. From where we were standing, it appeared that there were some makeshift huts with food signs and benches. They looked empty, but we thought maybe they just weren’t open yet.
Well we reached the sandbar and everything was empty, closed, there was nothing. There were 3 other people on the sandbar. Two Guatemalan fishermen with nets, and one Israeli surfer, who was vacationing here. His name was Aaron and we all chatted with him for a while about his travels and about the area.
Although things hadn’t gone according to plan, no one was fretting and we all frolicked in the ocean and rested on the hot black sand. I wore my new swimsuit. Yeaaaah.
The marine life had it out for Alicia this day. The first time we all took a dip some THING bit her foot. She ran out…or hopped out yelping in pain. It wasn’t a bad cut or anything but I could definitely see bite marks or scratch marks or something. We took a break from the ocean after that and dried off in the sun. We were all starting to get hungry at this point and Aaron had recommended a good pizza place in town. We gathered our things, and Alicia decided to go in the ocean one more time. This time she came running out, looking a bit panicked again. She told us she had just been swimming in the waves, minding her own business, when she felt something on her head pulling her down. She brushed it off and looked at what it was and found a pink squid swimming away. What the hell? A squid? We all laughed at and then sympathized with poor Alicia. I would have FTFOed in that situation. Freaked the F out, for those of you that don’t know the lingo.
It took a little while to get the attention of our boat driver to come pick us up from the sandbar again, but he finally made his way over and we hopped in. Aaron came too and got dropped off in the little beach hut he was staying at. What a cool life: to come and stay in a country for 3 or 4 weeks, explore for a few weeks, surf for one week.
Back on the mainland, we went in search for the pizza place. It didn’t exist or no one would help us find it. So we ate at this tiny little restaurant that was probably no bigger than my living room and only had one cook. She set up a table outside for us under the awning and took our orders. Brendan, Mike and Greg got burgers and fries. Us ladies split a plate of some sort of meat (beef? Very well marinated), chips and bean dip, and tortillas. It was quite tasty. We also partook in some native Guatemalan beer: Gallo. Tasted good with lime.
After lunch we headed back to the ship to freshen up after a sweaty, sweaty, black sand encrusted day. We ate dindin on the ship to save some mula. It was a pretty decent dinner. Spinach frittatas. Soo good. And for dessert: Paris Brests. Yes, breast was misspelled on the label. These Paris Brests were like an eclaire with mocha filling. Three Paris Brests: delicious. Inappropriate and immature jokes that ensued: innumerable and priceless.
After dinner, Lia, Alicia, Jill, Caroline, Doug and I called our taxi driver from earlier and got a ride into Puerto San Jose. We went to a restaurant that probably would have been hopping on a Friday or Saturday, but it was Tuesday and it was empty. Hit songs from the eighties were blaring over the speakers as we all sat at a table and ordered a drink or two and ate some appetizers. Our driver and his friend joined us. After a bit a group of locals came in and they were traaaaaashed. This one flamboyant guy kept getting up and drunkenly shaking his bum or thrusting his pelvis. We loved him. He was a HIT.
After a half hour or so at this restaurant we strolled around the town. Jill really wanted papusas which are some sort of street food she had eaten a lot of in her three weeks in Guadalajara last summer. We didn’t find these, but Lia and her bought some beef tacos from a street vendor. I think we were advised not to eat street food. Pssshh.
Jill bought a Regatone CD from a vendor and then we sat in skatepark with all the locals kids and teens. We watched them play, fight, skateboard, and canoodle. After a bit we headed back to the port. On our walk to the shuttle we heard loud music bumping and the rowdy voices of …could it be? Fellow SASholes? Indeed, there was a restaurant/bar right outside the shuttle pick-up that was swarming with SASers. There was a band playing America hits and lots of dancing and drinking going on. We stayed for an hour or so, but the last shuttle to the ship was at 10:45 so we caught that.
That night Caroline, Alicia and I ho’d it out in Alicia’s room for several hours just talking about the voyage, about our families, about our feelings and thoughts. It got rather emotional. Alicia and Caroline are pretty homesick and need their mommas. I kept reassuring them that we only had one week left. All the while, as I comforted them, I couldn’t help but think, “Only one week?! How? No! I want more!”
It ended up being a pretty late night (3am) and I had an early morning ahead of me what with my adventure to climb A VOLCANO!!!! No worries, I don’t need sleep.
The volcano climb was my last SAS-sponsored trip and I was really excited to hike it and that Jill would be accompanying me on this venture.
11:17
*I wrote this all like three weeks ago and never posted it….my bad
I found a dress and shoes for the ball. Took lots of pics on my top-notch disposable camera…told everyone I’d give them doubles. It was pretty funny to be like, “Don’t forget to wind it! Oh is the flash on?” Funny and obnoxious at the same time. No worries I’ll just get all of Jill’s photos.
So ‘Guats’ in the words of Win. The trip has come full circle. We started out in a Spanish-speaking country, we ended in a Spanish-speaking country. I traveled with Greg, Alicia, Caroline, Lia, and Jill a few days in Spain, I traveled with them for a few days in Guats. I stayed at Cat’s Hostel in Spain, I almost stayed in a hostel called El Gato Negro in Guats. Interesting, eh?
The first day I skipped the diplomatic briefing because I had stayed up pretty late the night before. I’m glad I did, though, because the diplomats just freaked everyone out and made some people not even want to get off the ship. Overall in Guatemala I felt pretty safe. I’m sure if I lived there permanently I would not feel the same, but in my brief time there I was never really uneasy or fearful for my well-being.
At about 10:30 or 11 we got off the ship. There were shuttles running every 15 minutes or half hour that took us from the port to the city entrance, because it was a pretty long walk otherwise. Greg, Alicia, Caroline, Jill, Brendan, Lia, Mike, and I took the shuttle and began to barter with taxi drivers to find a good price to go to Puerto Istapa. There was one taxi service at the city entrance charging ridiculous prices for a ride because they knew we had no other choice unless we wanted to take a long walk into the city. We finally found a ride for $5 a person and we hopped in the taxi van.
We had decided to go to this little city called Istapa because according to the pictures and little excerpts on it given by SAS at the Field Office, it is a nice little town with a beautiful black sand beach and lagoon. Well, either the Field Office lied or something changed drastically since those pictures were taken. The town was tiny, there were only locals and when we got to the “beach”…well do the quotations explain that?
Our taxi driver dropped us off at this little shack on the water facing a sandbar. He gives us his number so we can call him to get a ride back and then he calls over the man who is supposed to take us in one of these rickety, old boats lining the shoreline, across the dirty lagoon to the sandbar where the beach is. The boys had wanted to go deep-sea fishing here, because they had also read that was possible. So while they were checking to see if they could get fishing poles and other gear, all of us girls played with the cutest little puppy EVER. There were so many stray, mangy dogs in Guatemala. So many sickly puppies. It was sad.
Turns out, the boys couldn’t go fishing so instead we just decided to just hang out for a while, maybe get some lunch on the beach. From where we were standing, it appeared that there were some makeshift huts with food signs and benches. They looked empty, but we thought maybe they just weren’t open yet.
Well we reached the sandbar and everything was empty, closed, there was nothing. There were 3 other people on the sandbar. Two Guatemalan fishermen with nets, and one Israeli surfer, who was vacationing here. His name was Aaron and we all chatted with him for a while about his travels and about the area.
Although things hadn’t gone according to plan, no one was fretting and we all frolicked in the ocean and rested on the hot black sand. I wore my new swimsuit. Yeaaaah.
The marine life had it out for Alicia this day. The first time we all took a dip some THING bit her foot. She ran out…or hopped out yelping in pain. It wasn’t a bad cut or anything but I could definitely see bite marks or scratch marks or something. We took a break from the ocean after that and dried off in the sun. We were all starting to get hungry at this point and Aaron had recommended a good pizza place in town. We gathered our things, and Alicia decided to go in the ocean one more time. This time she came running out, looking a bit panicked again. She told us she had just been swimming in the waves, minding her own business, when she felt something on her head pulling her down. She brushed it off and looked at what it was and found a pink squid swimming away. What the hell? A squid? We all laughed at and then sympathized with poor Alicia. I would have FTFOed in that situation. Freaked the F out, for those of you that don’t know the lingo.
It took a little while to get the attention of our boat driver to come pick us up from the sandbar again, but he finally made his way over and we hopped in. Aaron came too and got dropped off in the little beach hut he was staying at. What a cool life: to come and stay in a country for 3 or 4 weeks, explore for a few weeks, surf for one week.
Back on the mainland, we went in search for the pizza place. It didn’t exist or no one would help us find it. So we ate at this tiny little restaurant that was probably no bigger than my living room and only had one cook. She set up a table outside for us under the awning and took our orders. Brendan, Mike and Greg got burgers and fries. Us ladies split a plate of some sort of meat (beef? Very well marinated), chips and bean dip, and tortillas. It was quite tasty. We also partook in some native Guatemalan beer: Gallo. Tasted good with lime.
After lunch we headed back to the ship to freshen up after a sweaty, sweaty, black sand encrusted day. We ate dindin on the ship to save some mula. It was a pretty decent dinner. Spinach frittatas. Soo good. And for dessert: Paris Brests. Yes, breast was misspelled on the label. These Paris Brests were like an eclaire with mocha filling. Three Paris Brests: delicious. Inappropriate and immature jokes that ensued: innumerable and priceless.
After dinner, Lia, Alicia, Jill, Caroline, Doug and I called our taxi driver from earlier and got a ride into Puerto San Jose. We went to a restaurant that probably would have been hopping on a Friday or Saturday, but it was Tuesday and it was empty. Hit songs from the eighties were blaring over the speakers as we all sat at a table and ordered a drink or two and ate some appetizers. Our driver and his friend joined us. After a bit a group of locals came in and they were traaaaaashed. This one flamboyant guy kept getting up and drunkenly shaking his bum or thrusting his pelvis. We loved him. He was a HIT.
After a half hour or so at this restaurant we strolled around the town. Jill really wanted papusas which are some sort of street food she had eaten a lot of in her three weeks in Guadalajara last summer. We didn’t find these, but Lia and her bought some beef tacos from a street vendor. I think we were advised not to eat street food. Pssshh.
Jill bought a Regatone CD from a vendor and then we sat in skatepark with all the locals kids and teens. We watched them play, fight, skateboard, and canoodle. After a bit we headed back to the port. On our walk to the shuttle we heard loud music bumping and the rowdy voices of …could it be? Fellow SASholes? Indeed, there was a restaurant/bar right outside the shuttle pick-up that was swarming with SASers. There was a band playing America hits and lots of dancing and drinking going on. We stayed for an hour or so, but the last shuttle to the ship was at 10:45 so we caught that.
That night Caroline, Alicia and I ho’d it out in Alicia’s room for several hours just talking about the voyage, about our families, about our feelings and thoughts. It got rather emotional. Alicia and Caroline are pretty homesick and need their mommas. I kept reassuring them that we only had one week left. All the while, as I comforted them, I couldn’t help but think, “Only one week?! How? No! I want more!”
It ended up being a pretty late night (3am) and I had an early morning ahead of me what with my adventure to climb A VOLCANO!!!! No worries, I don’t need sleep.
The volcano climb was my last SAS-sponsored trip and I was really excited to hike it and that Jill would be accompanying me on this venture.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
NUGGETS OF WISDOM WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF THE PAINTING IN MY CABIN
NUGGETS OF WISDOM WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF THE PAINTING IN MY CABIN:
(beware – some of these get a bit explicit, so just prepare yourself now)
Get it girl…uh
- anonymous
Tips for SAS:
1) Varanasi=lots of dock-time, long story
2) Buy raffle tickets at Walmart in different colors for drink tickets
3) Drug tests are a myth, have fun!
4) Fuck MAD bitches in Mauritius but don’t remember anything
5) Don’t fuck with Tina she might eat you
*the rest is unreadable but there are about 5 more tips
Tips from Spring 2008:
1) Have no regrets if you have sex with a dirty whore in Mauritius, people will forget about it. Every port -> new stories
2) Watch out for Canadians. (They are very fertile and get pregnant easy.)
3) Don’t hang out with GINGER KIDS!!
4) Girls that shave their heads on Neptune Day have low self-esteem and are easy
5) Smoke hash in India (you will trip balls)
6) Vietnam – eat snake and dog (ask for “Bark, Bark”)
7) Be careful of pissed of Malaysians (you may think Asians aren’t intimidating, but they know karate)
8) ALWAYS, ALWAYS bring booze on SAS trips
9) In this room… if and when you take showers … 50% chance you will get pregnant.
10) Buy a shit ton of hot sauce. If Mez is in the cafeteria, you’re stoked.
11) Beat up kids that wear crockies
12) Lastly, HAVE FUN, BLACK OUT,your best memories will be what you don’t remember
love,
Jeremy Schwartz
Summer 2008
1) don’t eat the food in Egypt… Pharoah will take revenge on you!
2) Don’t expect straight A’s… UVA hs upped the par of academics onboard
3) Smuggle drinks onboard, especially for the end (i.e. Ambassador’s Ball, I regret not doing it! Last pub night)
4) Sleep under the stars as often as you can
5) Don’t use facebook on board, it eats up all your minutes
6) Get to know people in your hallways….do homework in the hallways, etc.
7) BALTIC SEA fuckin’ rocks, baby ….#1 gold medalists, 2 semesters in a row!!! (if you have Iron Chef contest with pizza, make it a Thai pizza not Italian)
8) If you ever have to a tender, book a hotel (the tender stops going to the boast at 2)
9) Don’t travel to Moscow by yourself and make sure to master some Russian before entering the county
10) Make sure to cite in your papers and don’t use Wikipedia!!!
11) Make out with someone in every country and try to find someone on the ship too…to make ship times more “exciting”
12) Make sure not to miss you boat in the Greek Islands…it won’t be fun spending $700 to Serbia then Croatia cuz you didn’t get back in time
13) Eat tons of Belgian fries (put tons of Samuria sauce on it to too) and Belgian Waffles…they’re so good!
14) Make the most of life here and push yourself…have no regrets and you’ll have the time of your life!!! We certainly did!
-Andrea Kramer and Alli McSorely
p.s. Meclizine does not deactivate birth control
Practical Information (Fall 07)
1) Global Studies test will be harder than you think (Someone in wrote in different colored pen CHEAT next to this statement)
2) Egyptian police suck monkey balls, do not try to go to Israel
a. On that note, they will never check your passport for stamps in other countries
3) Buy a sitar in India or something equally ridiculous
4) India and Vietnam are the cheapest places, buy your shit there
5) You will not get tested for drugs unless they think your on them
6) Find out what Geocaching is if you don’t already know
7) At the end of the voyage, they will let you turn over-due library books for free
8) You can do anything in any country without SAS trips
9) Don’t be a “SAS-hole”
10) Duck-tape sets off metal detectors
11) Take the extra mattress from the bunk bed and put it on top of yours
12) Weight limitations in foreign airports are the same as the US (along with batteries)
More Summer 08
1) swim naked in the sea!
2) Get up for breakfast! It’s the best meal of the day
3) Get a Life Long Learner Family – they can bring things onto the ship that you can’t
4) If they have your cereal out, grab 10 boxes
5) In Croatia, moonshine – homemade wine and figs
6) Don’t freak out when something goes wrong, everything will work out. miss the tenders, stay out all night – these are the best memories you will have.
How 2 sneak on booze
1) do it first day in port
2) girls – in boobs (not vag)
guys – tape to thighs first day
OR
Buy juice cartons (1/2 gallon) open bottom with credit card. Pour booze in carefully (use funnel system) seal with super glue. Never fails.
*Next to this written in different colored pen, someone wrote “this is too elaborate. Read the situation, and pack accordingly. We got ten handles on in our legs/ bags/ under jackets/ taped to chest/ rectally….etc.
1) Have a foursome with your socks on, it’s really no THAT awkward
2) I blew my load on these walls, on this bed, in these eyes…
3) If you look really ahrd you can still the poop stain on the carpet in front of the bathroom…almost made it.
4) Condoms are overrated. Kids rule!
5) I may not know you, I may never meet you, but bro –your dick is the greatest!
6) And remember, there’s always time for one more shot with your best friends.
Your scurviest sea-dog,
Rob Anderson F ‘08
This is the revolution
I have the solution
Take acid
Drop out
Drown in liquor and frolic about
-SAS ‘76
1) Go vegetarian, all the cool kids are doing it. (vegetarian is crossed out and GAY is written over it)
2) Work out for the few first weeks. You will feel better about yourself when your are too lazy to take the stairs at the lsat port
3) Forego Global for sleep
4) Do not be “that guy,” nobody likes that guy…certain things that qualify you as that guy:
a. Unprotected sex with hookers in Vietnam
b. Stealing alcohol from the Captian
c. Working out without a shirt one during Pub night
d. Excessive use of “bra.” “broseph,” or “dude”
e. Milking the camera for air time
5) If you are a girl and spend lots of time with the dependents, you are nice if you are a guy…creepy
6) Eat anything you want, but avoid water
7) Buy music in every port, music triggers memories
8) Attend evening lectures. They are often pretty dan good
9) The visas SAS gives you forbid you from leaving the country, do not learn this the hard way. Make sure you have a visa that permits travel outside of the country
10) Do not do overnight trips, unless they are homestays – this is my one regret with SAS
11) Bend the rules – rent a car, leave the country, just be smart about it, don’t blab about it to everyone
12) Pick who you travel with wisely, at the end you will remember who you were with more so than what you were doing
Fall 2006
1) drug tests are NOT a joke! They give you 30 days to clean up (this is crossed out and someone wrote SMOKE WEED!!)
2) your body is the safe zone for sneaking booze on. You’ll never be patted down except for in Hawaii
3) there’s no dock time in the last port, get wasted and be late…so are all the professors!
4) Random room searches do exists…but they’re not that random
5) The smoker’s deck = “wrong crowd” assumption >drug tests
6) RD’s aren’t you friends, they may be chill but they’ll turn you in.
7) Don’t underestimate global studies (next to this someone wrote this girl is just stupid)
8) Bring toilet paper to every port!
9) ALWAYS have a business card of the hotel you’re staying at…then when you’re drunk you can just hand that to the driver
10) “Live every day like it’s your last”
11) Don’t worry about people from home
12) Don’t worry about taking pictures of everything
13) Walk around open eyed…taking everything every port has to offer in.
-Dawn, Sarah, and Scribble-scrawl of a Signature
As for my tips:
1) Taste everything
2) Talk to everyone – locals and SASers, they all have an interesting story
3) Get to know inter-port students
4) Make friends with the crew – they will hook you up
5) Explore on your own
6) Ask questions, ask for help when you need it, don’t be afraid of strangers…just be cautious
7) Sing, dance, paint, draw, write
8) DO HOMESTAYS
9) Don’t plan, just go
10) Travel how you want to, with people who you enjoy – it’s not worth it to follow someone else’s plans and be with people you don’t like
11) Travel with new people constantly…it’s refreshing
12) In Thailand, GO to Koh Samet! Do NOT go to a pingpong show, it will scar you for life.
13) DO NOT bro out in the pool in your speedo…it is not attractive
Sunday, May 3, 2009
PANAMAAAA
5/3/09
13:41
First of all, it's May. What the hell?
Second of all, as of yesterday at 1:35 I became a junior in college. Upperclassmen woot woot. I finished my last final, aka an art project, two days ago and it turned out pretty well. It will be on display in the Academic Gallery, which "was created to showcase outstanding academic coursework demonstrated during Semester at Sea Voyages" according to Brad Miller the man in charge of academic support.
Third of all, I am slacking on writing my Guatemala blob. Not that it wasn't sweet, because it was amazing and one of my top favorite ports, mainly just because I've been lazy and basking in the sun. But I can't wait to discuss my experience with Clareybear, and don't worry I'll write about it tomorrow.
Fourth, today is Panama Canal Day and also the Ambassador’s Ball. We are going through the canal currently. It is hotter than the blue blazes, but it’s pretty cool to see land hugging our ship so tightly on each side. We’ve gone under bridges and there have been walls merely feet from my porthole. It’s nuts. And as for the ball tonight….well I have nothing to wear. Hopefully I can find a dress buy 8:30 tonight. And shoes. Yeahhhhh.
Home in four days. Can’t think about it yet.
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