Reminisce - Back on the MV

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

An ode to one of my favorite characters in this story

4/28/09
8:27

The unthinkable has happened….it’s our last port today.  GUATEMALA HOORAY!

AAAND I only have one final left and it’s an art project.  Score!

This rest of this entry will be a tribute to a entertaining and recurring character in my blob:  Edwin Winfield Platt III, also known as Win or Winner

Direct quotes from Win:

Making room for us at a table at lunch--
Win: “I’m just trying to be hospital!”
Jill:  “Do you mean hospitable?”

At lunch another day --
Win: “Okay guys, can we talk about dragons for a minute?”

After just watching the sunset –
Win: “Hey!  Where did the sun go?”

Last night --
Win: “That sounded really ingeneric…
I mean insincere?”

Funny abbreviations or mispronunciations of countries or cities we have visited:

•       Amarrekech (real name:  Marrakech)
•       Namibs (real name: Namibia)
•       Swakumundo (real name: Swakopmund)
•       Cambodes (real name: Cambodia)
•       Guats (real name: Guatemala)
•       Antiguas (real name: Antigua)

He likes to make things plural.

Daily Life Aboard the MV Explorer

4/26/09
2:10

Took my Global Studies final today…well technically yesterday since it’s 2am.  I am officially done with that class forever.  Good riddance, Global.  I don’t think I aced it but I feel like I did…decent.

Tomorrow is a study day and I am going to SLEEP for the majority of the day.  I can’t wait.  I am basically nocturnal now.  Seriously, my sleep schedule is so off.  I never sleep at night. And I nap several times a day.

In this blob I’m going to write about some interesting observations and entertaining happenings on the ship.  They might bore you, but I want to remember them so here goes:

The first is about an annoying habit I have developed, but not whilst on the ship.  In fact, many of my good friends from home are aware of this frustrating tendency of mine, and now my shipboard friends have caught on too.  It is my tendency to zone out or listen to another conversation while someone else is talking and when they are halfway through their story I get interested and ask, “Who? Did what? When?”  Which basically requires the storyteller to start from the beginning because yours truly cannot focus on one thing.  Yes, it’s rude and I don’t mean to do it, I just get swept up in other things and realize I’ve missed out on the majority of the story. So now I try to catch myself before I do it, but it’s really no use.  Greg and Jill are constantly making fun of me and mimicking me, saying “who?” halfway through my stories or calling me out when I do it.  Good times.

Another funny instance aboard the MV Explorer:
So lately I’ve been playing a lot of Scrabble with Jill.  She is the master Scrabbler, and I am not.  But our friend Doug is the worst.  And somehow I always have a way of putting down a word right where he intended to go.  He hates it.  So anyhoo the other day I was down to the letters: D U G M I E. Dugmie.  So I asked if Dugmie was a word and since it is not, we made it a word. 
       Dugmie (n): a rare bearded species (even the females) who can read minds and breathe under water by trapping air bubbles in their beards.  Most commonly found on Nugget Island.
Strange? Yes.  But Doug is a bushy-bearded fellow (at least he was until he shaved he grew for two months today….it’s weird seeing his bald face) and he is really good at reading people’s body language, so we always say he can read minds.  Also one time he said “Now get this, Hannah” but I thought he said “Nugget this” (again with my bad listening skills), thus Nugget Island.  So we based the Dugmies off of Doug.  Good times.

Ship-life has come to be quite enjoyable.  I thought these long stretches in between ports would be hellish and boring, but time is flying by and it has been really fun.  Tomorrow = study/sleep day and the next day I have my Money and Banking final.  That class is ridiculous.  The teacher is probably brilliant but he cannot teach at all. He is senile.  I don’t know how he got this job, but he is past his prime.  I’m a little nervous about that final, because I basically half to teach the material to myself…we’ll see how it goes.

Then it’s off to Guatemala.  Last port.  It’s kind of dicey there right now so there are all kinds of warnings and restrictions.  I’m not worried, though.  Things will work out, they always do.  The first day Jill and I hope to go biking in Antigua, the next day I’m climbing am active volcano with a volcanologist (hope I don’t fall in!) and the third day, we’ll probably go to the beach.  I can wear my new swimsuit.  Yahoo!

Okay it’s practically 4am right now with the time change.  Constant time changes.  I’m sick of those.  It will be nice to be in one time zone when I get home.  Home.  It’s so soon. I am still in shock.

You are always in MY heart

4/24/09

I forgot to say THANK YOU for the letter from Dad, Katie, and Liv.  I was so excited and surprised to see a brown envelope attached to my door when I got back on the ship in Hawaii.  I ripped the letter open and found the cutest picture of my baby sister’s reflection in the mirror on the desk in my room.  I was even more pleased to have a disc of recent photos of the whole fam.  I’ve showed them to everyone.  Every time I have a chance I ask, “Want to see the cutest girl ever?”  And then I scroll through all the photos listening to people’s ‘oohs’ and ‘aaaawws’.  So thank you for that little taste of home.  The card is hanging from my magnetized wall with the “incredibly strong” magnets Katie got me. 

Alhoa -- that is how the ship spelled Aloha in an e-mail...embarassing

4/21/09
19:51

I didn’t realize how much I missed the United States of America until I arrived on US land two days ago.  It was all so familiar, so comfortable.

I woke up early the morning we arrived in Honolulu because we had to do a face-to-face passport inspection with customs at 6:30am.  I rolled out of bed, still wearing my pajamas…and my retainer…and went through the inspection.  Everyone was out on deck 7 (the top deck) on their cell phones, a sight I haven’t seen in a long time.  I immediately ran down to my room to check my phone.  IT WORKED!  Perfect signal, not roaming.  I had a cellular phone at my disposal.  It was amazing.

I called home.  It was the first time I have talked to Dad, Katie, and Liv since January 18th.  That’s a pretty long time. When Dad answered I was like, “Hello!” and he was like, “Hello?  Wait is this…Hannah?”  And I was like, “YEAH!!!”  It was great to hear everyone’s voice.  Especially Liv.  She sang me a song.  She can sing songs now.  She can count.  She is a big girl.  And I’m missing it.  I can’t wait to see her and how much she’s grown.  After I heard her song I sort of felt like crying.  Just because she’s getting so big and well…I miss my family.I talked to Nate and Clare as well, my two favorite GAC kids. 

Then at about 8:45 my friend Alicia and I got suited up to go run along the coast of Honolulu to Waikiki Beach.  My friends Jill, Caroline, Greg, Doug (it was weird traveling with a Doug because I was tempted to call him Dougert McGee and I actually did at one point), Disha, and Alex were also coming to the beach with us, but they weren’t feeling as athletically inclined as Alicia and me, so they walked.  I miss running on land.  I miss it so much.  The only downside about the run was that we both had backpacks with us, that became rather heavy and cumbersome in the hot hot Hawaiian sun.  No worries, though, because right when we got to the beach we stripped into our bathing suits and ran into the cool and refreshing (do you like that reference, Mom?) waters of Waikiki Beach.  Aaaah yessssssssssss.

We all lounged on the beach and floated in the water for several hours.  It was weird not being able to recognize every white person that walked by.  Typically I can spot a SASer a mile away while in port, but in Hawaii this was not the case.  We also couldn’t talk as freely, because people actually understand what we’re saying.  The whole ‘no language barrier’ thing was also a nice change of pace. We could flag down a taxi and take comfort in the fact that not only is it metered, but the driver understands where we want to go. 

We got hungry around 11:30, so we went in search of nourishment.  We came across the Rock Island Café that was the epitome of American pop culture and unhealthy food.  The walls were lined with signed pictures of actresses, actors, and singers ranging from Elvis and Marilyn Monroe to the Zac Efron.  There were TVs playing the classics like Grease and the Wizard of Oz.  And then the menu.  Pizza, hotdogs, burgers, sandwiches, milkshakes, banana splits, nachos, chicken wings.  Nirvana.  Except nothing was less than $8.  Eight dollars.  Eight US dollars.  $1 USD = $1 Hawaiian dollar.  Bummer man. 

The high prices didn’t deter us from indulging ourselves, though.  I got a chili cheese dog with fries and Jill and I split a banana split for dessert.  It worked out perfectly because Jill loves strawberry ice cream but isn’t a big fan of chocolate ice cream, and I dig chocolate ice cream but am not the biggest fan of strawberry.  Can you say match made in heaven?

After lunch we headed back to the beach to enjoy more sunshine and waves.  Jill, Doug and Greg left after an hour or so because they were giving a tour to prospective students on the ship at 3.  At about 4, Disha, Caroline, Alex and I decided to head back to the ship to shower and change.  On our walk back we saw a Coldstone.  Who can resist Coldstone?  I got a “like it” size of Peanut Butter Perfection.  “Like it” is the smallest size, so I held back, obviously. 

Oh and earlier, a few of us decided to take a sunset catamaran tour of the bay, which left at 5:30 but we were supposed to meet at the boat at 5.  Caroline and I realized that we wouldn’t have time to go all the way back to the ship to change and then come back because it was rush hour and it was about 4:45 already.  So Disha and Alex headed back without us and Caroline and I tried our best to freshen up in a mall bathroom.

We met Doug, Greg, Jill, Nancy, Skyler, Brendan, and Mike back at the boat.  This boat ride brought flashbacks of that fateful boat ride in Acapulco Senior Spring Break 2k7.  The boat ride that we are not to speak of EVER AGAIN.  Luckily, no one got seasick on this ride, no one fell off a bench because the ship was breaking, the music wasn’t a skipping CD of techno, and it was an overall enjoyable experience.  We all sat on the top deck laughing, drinking Mai Tais, taking pictures, and singing and dancing along to American pop songs.  So nice. 

Jill and Nancy began conversing with this Australian guy named Aaron who was on board.  Great accent, super cute.  At first we thought he was gay, but after a while it appeared that he was straight.  Sooo Jill invited him to dinner with us.  We ate at this restaurant called Duke’s, which was a sort of sports bar.  As usual just about every SASer had also decided to eat at this restaurant, so it was good that we had made a reservation for 8 earlier in the day.

I was still rather full from my second helping of ice cream that day, so I split deep-fried shrimp with Alicia and calamari with Nancy.  It was super tasty.  After dinner we hung out at the restaurant bar for a while, but the legal drinking age in the US is 21.  Weird.  Us youngens got bored of standing around the bar and constantly getting asked for our IDs and constantly telling the bartenders that we weren’t drinking, so I hung out on the beach for a while.  I sat in a powwow circle with Lia, Disha, Doug, and Lexi just chatting and hanging out.

 At around midnight, I decided to head back to the ship with Disha and Lia.  Lia was having a hard day and wanted to go to bed and I was over that restaurant scene, so we started walking back to the ship.  After a fair amount of walking, we decided to get  a cab, because Disha and Lia both had to pee.  We were further away from the ship than I thought so it was good we got a cab and it was relatively cheap between the three of us.

The next morning I got up at 8:30 to meet people for breakfast on the ship.  Jill, Caroline, Doug, Lexi and I planned to rent bikes and bike around Honolulu. Doug and Jill had seen a bike rental shop on their way home the night before so we knew the general area but it was a long walk from where the ship was docked.  We walked for about 15 or 20 minutes and then decided to take a bus instead of walking in the hot sun. 

We waited at a bus stop for like 10 minutes and not a single bus went by.  So we began walking again and then we saw the number 19 bus, which would take us exactly to where we needed to be.  It stopped about 50 feet in front of us.  We all looked at each other and said, “RUN!!” So we took off in a sprint to catch this bus.  We made it and breathlessly paid and took our seats, giggling all the while.

After a few stops we got off and found the bike rental shop.  It was $21 to rent the bike for the day.  We considered biking to Pearl Harbor or to this beautiful beach someone recommended to Jill, but they were both on the other side of the island so we didn’t have enough time. Instead we biked around the Waikiki area, along the coast. 

Before we really got into on our ride, we stopped at an ABC Store, which is kind of like the 7-Eleven of Hawaii.  AND they accept Yen so I was able to exchange all of my Yen.  Yay! 

On our way to the store, we had been biking on the sidewalks, weaving in an out of groups of people.  When we stopped at the store both a bike policeman and a local told us that it is illegal to bike on the sidewalks, you either have to bike on the streets or walk your bike on the sidewalk.  Oops.

Then we began the real ride.  I was the leader of the pack, which was a bit frustrating since I had no clue where to go and it’s always hard to communicate with your fellow bikers because they are behind you.  At one point Lexi shouted out to me, “Hannah stop! Doug fell!”  Apparently Doug doesn’t know how to ride a bike.  He claims that the breaks on his bike at home are different, so he clutched the front breaks and nearly flipped his bike.  He managed to jump off mid-flip and both him and the bike were perfectly fine.  Stupid Doug.

After biking around for a while and working up a good sweat, we came across a hotel beach and decided to take a dip.  It felt sooooo good.  I love floating in the water.  I rarely touched the bottom of the ocean.  One, because I like to float, and two, because there are all kinds of CARL reefs.  It hurt my feet.  There’s just so much carl. 

After our dip, we were hungry and we wanted Mexican food.  It’s surprising how often we crave Mexican food.  I wanted guacamole. I MISS guac. We started biking rather aimlessly since, again, I didn’t know where to go.  We took a turn and then Lexi and Caroline and I stopped to convene with the entire group.  We turned our heads to the left and there was La Cucaracha, Mexican Restaurant.  Things always work out, I’ve come to realize in my travels.  I never really stress anymore because I know things have a way of working out.  City of miracles….oh wait that’s Tokyo.  My bad.

We locked our bikes up and put clothes back on (we had been biking in swimsuits after the ocean swim and this place didn’t serve shirtless, shoeless customers…dictators). This Mexican food was AMAZING.  We split a HUGE serving of nachos for the table and Caroline and I split chicken quesadillas.  Splitting food is a necessity since a) American serving sizes are mucho grande compared to anywhere else and b) everything is fricken expensive.  Our nachos were like $18.  That’s insane.

Oh and speaking of quesadillas, the pool bar on the ship now serves quesadillas.  Everyone I was sitting with just now, found that out and left me sitting here alone.  Bastards.

Anyways, after our pig-out session, we went to the beach…again.   On our way to the water we passed a Billabong swimsuit store.  I made a mental note of that, because as you may or may not know I can’t resist swimsuits and I am SICK of the 2 that I brought. 

At the beach we laid out and swam and avoided carl reefs and napped.  It was sooooo relaxing.  It was paradise.  We saw the boat we had gone on the night before and we considered doing another cruise around the island but we didn’t have enough time.  What a shame.  After a bit we got ice cream and then went to get our bikes.  Jill and Doug wanted to go for one more dip in the ocean, so Lexi, Caroline and I went to Billabong,  I may or may not have purchased a swimsuit, that I don’t necessarily need.  But it was super cute and brightly colored, which looks great against my coco brown skin.  Or something like that.

We had to return the bikes by 5 and it was 4:30 and we didn’t know where the bike shop was in proximity to our current location.  Dilemma.  I took the lead again and managed to get us back to the shop with minutes to spare.  A great sense of direction, I have.  There’s a little Yoda-speak for you.

We the planned to take a bus back to the ship, but no buses come to the bus stops EVER so we split a cab back to the ship.

Typically after being in a country for 4 or 5 days, I am ready to go back to the ship. It’s my home and it’s nice to sleep in my bed and to take a shower and have clean clothes and all that jazz.  This time I was not ready to go back.  I wish we could have stayed in Hawaii longer.  It was a little teaser for home.  Even though Hawaii is really nothing like Minnesota at all, it has all the familiarities of home. 

Back on the ship I made a few more phone calls.  I also connected to a free Internet network from the back of the ship.  I was able to make a tentative class schedule for fall semester at USD.  I sign up for classes in 3 days.  That’s kind of a reality check.  I might be taking 6 classes, because I feel like I’m behind since I’m just picking my major now.  It’s going to be a tough semester, especially in comparison to this.

Now I’m on the ship again.  One week until Guatemala.  Then two weeks, you guys.  I’ll be home in two weeks.  That blows my mind.  I stayed up late last night painting for an art project I have and talking with Greg.  We talked about friends and family.  Our families and our past are uncannily alike.  He is basically my long lost Jewish brother.  Who knew?  We talked about how we won’t see some of these people for years or possibly never again.  I thought about who I actually hope to stay in touch with.  I hope I do. I will. 

Well mahalo for reading.  Aloha.

Whaaaaaaaaale Part II

4/17/09
9:22

It is whale season in the Pacific.  I have wanted to see a whale this entire voyage.  I have dreamed about it twice.  I’m crossing my fingers that soon I can say WHAAAAAAALE and it won’t be a lie.

Somewhere over the rainbow

4/16/09
1:14

We’ve been on the Pacific Ocean for the past few days.  The water has been really rocky, the sky has been overcast, and the weather has been cool.  But yesterday the waves finally smoothed out, the sun shone brightly, and it was hot.  It reminded me of the good old days on the Indian Ocean.

In the evening, from the back of the ship, I could see a beautiful blue sky, with the sun melting into the water. From the port side I could see dark, ominous clouds with rain pouring down, a stark contrast to the colors of the sunset.  Amidst the clouds were two bright rainbows arching over me.  One of those rainbows was the closest to a full rainbow I have ever seen and it was amazing.  The reflection glimmered on the smooth water. It was very picturesque, but alas my camera remains somewhere in Shibuya.  Luckily, I have many friends with high quality cameras who promised to give me the pictures. 

I’ve seen some beautiful sights on this voyage, and to think there are only three weeks left.  I can’t believe it.  I don’t really want to believe it.  The ship has really become my home.  The people on board have become my classmates, my friends, my family, and some of them I may never see again. 

–Pensive Panda

The trials and tribulations of Tokyo part II

It was gone.  Everything was gone.  I had soooo hoped it would turn up, that no one took it, that it was just left in a corner behind a speaker.  But no, it was gone.  With disappointment, I told the man working at the club, “Arigoto (thank you)” and began to leave.  Then I asked him if I could use the club’s phone.  He got confused and wrote down the club phone number.  I tried to explain and I realized that I really had no one to call anyways, so I just left. 

I wandered back to the train station so I could go to Akasaka, a district in Tokyo where the US Embassy is located.  I asked security what train to take.  They told me to take two subways.  So I went off in search of the subway station.  Along the way I saw a few SASers.  I asked a Megan, a friend from South Africa, if I could have her green sheet.  She gave it to me and asked what happened.  I told her and her group and they sympathized.  I ran into another SASer and asked where the subway station was. She pointed me in the right direction and asked if I was okay.  Tears welled up in my eyes, but I couldn’t cry because I had to get to the embassy so I said no but kept walking.

I found the subway and got my tickets.  Finally I made it to Akasaka.  I’d say it was about 6:30 or 7 by this time, but I don’t have a watch.  It was getting dark out though.  I began wandering along the streets looking for the address.  Of course the addresses aren’t plainly displayed on windows of buildings or anything so my prospects of finding this place were looking dim. 

I began to look for someone who could help me and I saw a black man and woman walking along towards me, who looked like they were speaking English.  I walked up to them and asked if they spoke English.  The man told me yes.  I asked if he knew where the US Embassy was and he gave me directions to the embassy.  I thanked him, and then he said, “You know it’s closed, though.”  That was it.  I started crying.  I must have looked so foolish: standing on the street, disheveled hair, pale-faced, carrying a backpack almost as big as me, wearing the same outfit from the night before, crying in front of strangers.

This man immediately asked what was wrong and, in between sobs, I told him that I was student studying abroad and had lost my passport and needed a new one by tomorrow in order to continue on with my program.  He whipped out his phone and called the officer on duty at the embassy.  How did he have that number in his phone, you may ask?  Because he worked at the embassy! Aaron Baloney (great name), Chief of the Military Liaison Group, my hero.  CITY OF MIRACLES. 

I composed myself, and Aaron gave me the phone and I talked to the duty officer.  She instructed me to come back as soon as the embassy opened the next day (8:30am) and bring either my birth certificate or driver’s license and the copies of my passport that I had.  She also informed me that it might take 3 to 5 days to get a new passport so I should discuss my options with SAS.  I had no options.  If I didn’t get a passport by the next day, I wouldn’t be able to sail with the ship to Hawaii.  I would miss 9 days of school on the ship, which is like the most school we ever have in a row.  I would have to pay for a pretty damn expensive ticket to Hawaii. I had to get a new passport by the next day.

After I got all the information I hung up, and thanked Aaron profusely for letting me use his phone.  His mom, Judy, gave me a big hug and said, “It’s okay, honey.  I’m a mom.”  I needed that hug more than she will ever know.  Aaron asked if I had a place to stay for the night and I told him I was going to go back to the ship in Yokohama.  He asked if I had money to get back to the ship and I told him I had about 2000 Yen.  He, then  gave me 3000 Yen and directed me towards the right train to take.  I started crying again because I was so moved by his compassion.  His mom put her arm around me and said that she had been having a crappy day until she met me and I brightened up her day.  Oh you’re having a crappy day?

I thanked them for their help and they made me promise I would call once I got back to the ship safely. 

Back to the subway.  At this point I changed out my dress and tights from the night before and put on sweatpants.  Earlier I didn’t feel like I had time to change or eat or drink or do anything.  I also had a tiny box of Frosted Flakes that I jacked from the ship’s breakfast a few days before.  In new clothes and with some food in my stomach I got on the subway back to Shinjuku.  Once in Shinjuku Station I tried finding a train to Yokohama.  A woman came over and asked if I needed help.  I told her I needed to go to the Nihon-Odori station in Yokohama and she helped me buy a ticket for the right train.  City of miracles.  So many strangers helped me in Tokyo.  Thank God.

I got on the train.  I had to stand for a while until the car emptied out a bit.  When I finally got a seat, I was exhausted.  I had been hauling my huge backpack around all day and it had been a pretty draining day without the extra weight.  Everyone else on the train was exhausted too.  The Japanese really know how to sleep standing up while holding on to the overhead bar on a train.  I’ve never seen anything like it. Every single person is asleep.

My stop was one of the last ones and it had been about an hour ride, but it could have been quicker if there had been less stops.  I got off the train and saw some SASers.  I asked if I could follow them back to the ship since I didn’t know where the ship was docked,  because the last time I had seen the ship was in Kobe.  They agreed and we made our way back.  When getting back onto the ship everyone swiped their ship ID cards and when it came to me I told security I lost my card.  She asked for my passport and I told her I lost that too.  I explained that I had lost my bag that contained most my belongings.  She seemed frustrated and began asking me all of these questions like my room number, my ID number, what classes I took on the ship.  Once she was satisfied that I am indeed a student on Semester at Sea she told me to go immediately to the front desk and alert them of my passport.  I did so.  

Honey, the lady at the front desk, made me a new ship ID and called the dean on duty.  The advice from the dean on duty was to go to the embassy as soon as possible the next day and get a new passport.  He said it could be done pretty quickly, and another student had lost her passport earlier and she already had a new passport.  That gave me some hope.

I got back to my room and put down my bag.  Kendra was there.  She asked how everything went and told me that if I couldn’t get a new passport she would ask her aunt and uncle in Hawaii if I could stay with them until the ship got there.  I couldn’t really handle that idea and at that point, all I wanted to do was call home.  All I wanted was to talk to my mom.  I tried to buy a phone card but Japan has its own network for phones and Internet so phone cards wouldn’t work and the Internet on the ship was turned off.  I didn’t know what to do.  I really couldn’t keep it together much longer.

I went over to Caroline’s room and told her what happened and asked her if her phone was working. It was and she let me borrow it.  She let me use it the whole night, even after she went out.  I have such good, caring friends.  I am so lucky.

I went outside on the front of the ship and tried calling my mom.  She didn’t answer because it was pretty early back home.  Finally she called back and I broke down.  I was scared, tired, devastated, and in need of some motherly love.  She gave it to me.  She was so supportive, so level-headed.  She was my mom and that’s what I needed then.  Thanks Mom.  I love you very very very very very very much.

Once I got a hold of myself, I called my parent’s college friend Mark Schumacher, who I planned to meet up with the next day and told him of the situation.  He told me we could meet up a bit later after I sorted everything out at the embassy, so I said I’d call him the next day.  Then I called Aaron Baloney and left a message on his answering machine thanking him for everything and letting him know that I got back to the ship alright.

It was weird having a phone again.  I talked to my mom several times that night as she did more and more research on getting a new passport made.  I finally went to bed around 1. 

The next morning I got up at 6, I packed my smaller, more manageable backpack with my drivers license, a copy of my birth certificate, a copy of my passport, two passport photos, $100 USD (I had $102 USD left in my safe), 4000 Yen, the address for the embassy, Caroline’s phone, and some cereal and went on my way to the embassy.  I got to the embassy at about 8:20am.  I went through security and then took a number and waited.  I was third in line, I believe.  They called my number, I told them the situation, gave them all my papers, filled out some paperwork, and waited for them to process an emergency passport for me.  An emergency passport is valid for one year.  I have to get it renewed in the US when I get back.  It looks the same as other passports, except it has EMERGENCY written across it and I think it has less pages.  It also won’t have all the cool stamps, stickers, and visas my old passport had.  But oh well, it’s a passport.

While I waited for my passport, I watched the cutest Japanese family.  A mom, a dad, and a little boy and little girl.  They spoke fluently in English as well.  Those little kids were so cute.  The mom was counting some yen, and the little girl leaned over her mom’s shoulder and said “Is that mine?” and her mom said, “No,” and the girl said, “Oh…well where’s mine?”  Then the two parents got up to talk to one of the workers at the embassy and the little boy sat at the table trying to open his water bottle.  “Daddy! It’s tight!” he cried out, when he couldn’t open the bottle.  His dad didn’t respond.  “Tight! Tight! Tight! Daaaaaaad it’s tiiiiiiiiiiiiight.”  Still no response.  It was pretty funny.  Finally he gave up.

At one point I looked up and Aaron Baloney was walking towards me.  I stood up immediately and thanked him again.  I asked if he got my message and he said yes.  I told him I would pay him back for his loan and he gave me his e-mail address and told me he was glad everything worked out.  Aaron Baloney saved my life.

At about 10 o’clock I had a new passport, so I called the dean on duty on the ship and let him know, then I called my mom to let her know, then I called Mark and we agreed to meet in Kamakura, where he lives, in an hour.

I arrived in Kamakura about an hour and a half later and Mark was there to greet me.  He gave me a big hug and then took me out to lunch at this tiny, eclectic place down a back street in Kamakura filled with all sorts of pottery and artwork.  The restaurant served us several dishes, there were no menus, they just brought out food.  We had rice, pork and corn, noodles and pork, sardines (I think), soup, and green tea.  It was all pretty good, too. 

Next Mark took me to a couple of Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines.  Mark studies Buddhist and Shinto statuary, so he was a fabulous tour guide.  He was so knowledgeable about Buddhism and the various deities and practices and myths.  I’ve seen my fair share of shrines and temples in the countries I’ve been to, but it was nice to have a tour guide that added a little flavor to the whole spiel.  At the end of the tour Mark tested me on what I had learned.  I got an A. 

Mark is just as fun and entertaining as I remember him when I was 6, a bit more crass perhaps, but in an good-natured, silly way.

Mark also introduced me to sweet potato ice cream, which was delicious.  If I can’t find that in the US, I will make my own and start a sweet potato ice cream business.  He also bought me a deep-fried sweet potato treat.   Sweet potatoes are the shit. 

Mark sent me on my way around 3:30.  I thanked him for showing me around Kamakura and allowing my time in Japan to end on a good note.  Mark also loaned me money for the rest of my trip since I only had $2 USD to my name at this point.  What a good guy.

Back in Yokohama I got lost on my way the ship and ended up having to take an expensive cab ride to the ship, but I made it to the ship, didn’t get dock time and I had a passport so I could pass the face-to-face customs passport inspection.

I hadn’t been on the ship since early that morning, so none of my friends knew if I got a new passport and everyone was pretty worried.  The news spread pretty quickly that I lost my passport, too, so lots of people I never told came up asking me about it.  Steve, Hussain, and Disha ran up and hugged me when they saw me. Caroline, Alicia, and Jill greeted me with hugs and stories.  Win gave me a big hug and said he was glad I was still sailing with the ship. Greg told me he was glad I made it.  Everyone was soooo soo nice, and I felt really loved.  I’ve made some pretty spectacular friend while on this voyage and I’m extremely grateful for all of them.  I needed a lot of love that day, and I got it.

So that was my Japan.  I lost a lot, but I gained a lot more.  I lost my passport, my money, my Japan Rail pass (which looked super cool), my camera with all my Japan pictures, and my credit cards.  I’ll probably never get any of that back.  But I got a new passport, I can earn money, I can get pictures from friends and I learned many lessons from that experience. I learned to never let my guard down.  I learned how to ask for help. I learned to travel on my own in a foreign country.  If I can do that…I can do anything.  I learned people’s true colors.  I learned how supportive my friends and family are.  And most importantly I learned to have complete faith in humanity.

Two days later, on Easter, I had a lot be thankful for as I watched the sun rise over the bow of the ship.

The trials and tribulations of Tokyo

4/15/09
16:09

Okay so I will now finish my Japan blob.  It’s taken me a while to finish blobbing because it has been a pretty hectic couple of days on the ship since I got back.  Lots of tests and projects, including the huge Global Studies test, which was a bitch.  It’s so much information, completely unorganized approach, CHAOS.  We’ll see how I do.  Luckily, I’m taking that class pass/fail because there is a chance that I could get a C.  I know, I know, that’s bad.  But you have no idea what this class is like.  We learn about history, religion, CORAL REEFS (pronounced ‘carl’ reefs by the professor, which kills me), weather patterns, climates, islands, homo erectus (giggle), the Dodo bird.  So much info.  BUT today we have a day off.  I slept the majority of today and now I’m drawing and blobbing.

So Japan.  Where was I last time?  Oh yes, Tokyo International Hostel.  The next morning was JILL’S 21ST BIRTHDAY!!!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! We all woke up early because the designated shower time was between 6:30 and 8:30 am. Rough.  After we showered, we packed up, checked out, and went in search of free Internet so Kendra could get in contact with her friend Mary from high school who is studying in Japan and also to find the Denny’s we saw on our train ride to the hostel the night before.  There is no free Internet anywhere in Tokyo, even though we were told it is all over the place.  City of lies.

We finally stumble upon Denny’s, which is not quite the same as Denny’s in the US, but that’s to be expected in Japan.  But no Internet could be found.  Kendra was starting to freak the F out because she couldn’t get in contact with Mary, so we took the train back to the main station in Shinjuku.  We put our huge backpacks in storage lockers and talked to information about the location of Internet cafés and banks/ATMs, since Japanese ATMs do not take American credit cards.  In fact, the only place that has ATMs that will accept American credit cards was none other than 7-Eleven.  I love that place.  They’re not going to be the same in the States.

So we began our quest in Shinjuku to find Internet and ATMs.   The information desk at the train station wasn’t particularly helpful, but we stumbled upon a 7-Eleven and got some Yen.  Then as we were walking Jill’s iPhone got connected all of a sudden to a free wireless network.  Yay!  So Kendra finally made contact with her friend Mary and set up a plan to meet at 4:20 at the Waseda Train Station.  Jill also got in contact with Chris, a friend from high school who is studying in Tokyo, and we planned to meet up with him at around 7:30. 

Everything was settled so we could go explore Tokyo.  First we set off to see this beautiful Shinto shrine.  The bows of cherry blossom trees hung over the courtyard leading up to the shrine, blanketing the pebbled ground in petals.  When you enter a shrine there is a Torii, which is a squared off archway that purifies those that enter from above.  The pebbles on the ground are said to purify people from below and there is a water fountain where one pours water over their hands out of a ladle to complete the purification process.

We purified ourselves and wandered into the shrine.  I always feel a little uncomfortable going into holy places as a tourist because typically there are people worshipping there.  I feel intrusive.  I, personally, would feel uncomfortable if people were walking by, taking pictures as I sat in my church and prayed.  Thus far, at all the shrines and temples I’ve visited though, no one has seemed to be upset by my disturbance of the peace, but I still feel a bit uneasy.

After going into the shrine we walked around the grounds.  Despite being a holy place, there are still all kinds of shops and food carts for tourists.  You could buy good luck charms, or charms that help you with your studies, and so on.  You could buy your fortune and if it was a bad fortune you tie it up and leave it in the shrine, you could buy a plaque to write a wish.  You could buy crepes, hotdogs, green tea, ice cream.  Then past all of those stands there were several rows of small Buddha statues that represent the spirit of babies and young children who have died or aborted fetuses.  Many of them have little hats and cloaks draped upon them and are adorned with flowers and toys.

We walked down a wooded path, past a Buddhist graveyard that was behind the shrine and found ourselves back on the streets of Tokyo.  We looked across the street and there was a beautiful park with a bubbling brook, willow trees, stone paths – just an explosion of nature amidst all the concrete and steel.  While meandering through the park across a bridge and under the trees, we found ourselves right in front of the Tokyo Tower.  This red and white tower is taller than the Eiffel Tower, and has shops, restaurants, a wax museum, an arcade, and an aquarium in it.   We went in and checked it out.  I wanted to buy Reegan a little Hello Kitty trinket, but even the tiniest, teeny weeny keychain was 800 Yen.  EIGHT DOLLARS!  Stupid. 

Jill, Kendra, and Adrienne went up to the top to check out the view and I decided to walk around and check out the museum.  I thought I would save some cash…well nothing is free in that tower except for the diorama, picture timeline, and informational plaques on the tower.  That was nice, except it was all written in Japanese so my curiosity remains about the construction and history of the tower.

Outside of the tower, we came across a crepe stand and the crepes looked delicious. Filled with various fruits, whip cream, custard, chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, sprinkles.  Needless to say I invested in one with strawberries, ice cream, chocolate sauce and whipped cream.  So good.

We wanted to go see an art museum, but they were pretty pricey and we didn’t have enough time to get our money’s worth before meeting Mary.  So we hopped on a train in search of Kendra’s long-lost high school mate.  We found her in the station and Kendra and Mary embraced and shrieked with joy.  It was cute.  I wish one of my best friend’s were studying in Tokyo.  Why weren’t you guys studying in Tokyo while I was there?  Seriously.

Mary took us to the Harajuku district and what a sight to see.  The styles…they are crazy, wild, colorful, polka-dotted, striped, hot pink, scrunchies, pigtails, fake eyelashes, tights, heels, boots, sneakaaazzzz, and nothing I could ever pull off.  It reminded me of Spain, just because everyone was so fashionable there and I felt out of place and fashion backward…as opposed to fashion forward.  It also made me wish I had brought a few more cute outfits from home.  Live and learn.  Next time I’m traveling the world on a ship I’ll remember to bring some more dresses, skirts, tops, a pair of heels, some boots…next time for sure.

As we walked down a main fashion street, staring at everyone, every things, every shop, Jill sang Gwen Stefani’s “Harajuku Girls.”  Fitting, no?  Adrienne got sucked into many a clothing boutique and spent her fair share of yen on some choice items.  She got some cuuuuute stuff.  Kendra and Mary were off in their own world.  I just took it all in. 

One of Jill’s goals for her 21st birthday was to drink bubble tea.  As we walked down the street we saw two girls holding cups of bubble tea.  Jill ran over and asked one where she got it.  This girl clad in funky duds did not speak English very well and she shrugged, but we grabbed the cup and looked at the name, “Pearl Lady.”  We strolled down looking for the Pearl Lady.  We came across a food court and went in and guess what.  PEARL LADY! BUBBLE TEA!!!  Adrienne, Jill and I all got a cup.  Kendra and Mary had separated from us.  I got chocolate.  Jill got mango.  Adrienne got milk tea?  I’ve had bubble tea in every country since Vietnam.  That’s only three countries, but still. I’m obsessed.  Is there bubble tea in Minnesota?  There needs to be.

We came back out with our bubble tea and found Kendra and Mary.  Then we walked to the main avenue in Harajuku.  There is shop after shop, crepe stand after crepe stand, cool Japanese chick after cool Japanese chick.  I loved it.  Mary and Kendra separated from us again, and Jill, Adrienne and I found this ridiculous store called Condomania.  It sold…condoms, duh.  And other explicit items.  Good for a chuckle.

Kendra and Mary wanted to explore some more and Adrienne, Jill and I decided to go pick up our stuff from the station in Shinjuku and meet up with Jill’s friend Chris so we made a plan to meet up again at 8:30.  Back in Shinjuku, we found Chris right outside the station.  He was a great host.  He immediately took us to a cheap sushi place and I tried my first bite of sushi.  I had shrimp sushi, tuna sushi, salmon sushi, crab sushi.  And I liked it. Crab was definitely my favorite.  Is that the California roll?  I think so.  Then Chris took us to see this crazy shop that is jam-packed with EVERYTHING.  Toys, clothes, costumes, underwear, jewelry, gag gifts.  Just covered with merchandise from floor to ceiling, wall to wall.  It was definitely a sensory overload and not a good place for claustrophobic people.  Jill purchased a panda suit.  Good buy, my friend, good buy.  Next Chris took us to get a sweetbean-filled pancake from a street vendor.  I never thought of beans a dessert food, but they are, and they’re good.  By this time it was a little past 8:30 so we rushed back to meet Kendra and Mary.

We all grabbed our backpacks out of our lockers and changed into our “going out” outfits.  Jill had also purchased some tiger-ear clips to put in her hair in order to distinguish her as the birthday girl.  Rawr.

We got all fancy and put our backpacks in new lockers.  Jill didn’t want to bring a purse so I put her Japan Rail Pass as well as my own, and our locker key in my little purse, along with my money, passport, and camera.  I thought about leaving some stuff in the locker (like maybe my passport), but I decided it would be fine, clearly ignoring my intuition.  Always a mistake.  FORESHADOWING.

We followed Chris to a hole-in-the-wall bar where he was meeting someone for an interview.  The bar had a half-pipe in it and was decorated with all kinds of paintings done by these Japanese tattoo artists.  The paintings were of Kapa (spelling?) which is like the Japanese version of the boogie monster.  The paintings were very sexualized and rather vulgar and violent.  I took a picture (that I will never see) of one with a female Kapa who had a pickle or cucumber coming out of an orifice that I would not want any sort of produce coming out of.  EXPLICIT.  Chris knew a lot of the tattoo artists, and this was perfect because Adrienne really wanted to get a tattoo while in Japan.  She had drawn out a design and had kept her eye out for tattoo parlors the entire time we were in Japan, but to no avail.  Chris promised to take her to get a tattoo the next day and I promised to come with for moral support and to see a tattoo done in REAL LIFE!

The bar was empty apart from our group and Chris was friends with all the bartenders.  He told them in Japanese that it was Jill’s 21st and they congratulated her.  We ordered a few drinks and then the bartenders came out with a bowl of popcorn with three flickering candles sticking out of it.  They sang, “Happy Birthday” and also brought out Hershey’s kisses.  It was so sweet.  We all sat and talked and laughed, and after a little while, one of the bartenders came over, turned off the lights, and levitated a pen between his hands.  City of magic.   It was totally random and hilarious and perfect.

Chris’s interviewer hadn’t shown up after an hour and we decided to go check out the club scene in Shibuya, another district in Tokyo.  It was about 11:30 by the time we got to Shibuya and we began wandering around in search of clubs.  Everything seemed to be closing because the last train is at midnight.  We ran into some other SASers who also had a birthday boy in their group and we joined forces in search of a good time.  We found a club called Vuenos, that gave us a deal: $10 cover charge, with 2 drinks included.  We were in. 

This club had three levels: the first was a sitting area, the next was down just a few steps and had a bar, then there was a stage, dance floor and bar area below that you could down at from a bridge going across.  It was pretty cool.  And completely empty, except for about 20 SASers.  Typical.

  Chris had told us the Japanese word for birthday and I believe it was ‘tanjobi’ or something to that effect.  Jill forgot and I overheard her asking some SAS guys what the word was.  The blatantly lied to her face making up random Japanese words.  City of lies.  I swooped in and told them they were liars and Jill and I went up to the bar to tell the bartender it was her ‘tanjobi’ in order to get a free drink.

After an hour or so at the club, Japanese people started to filter in slowly and then there was a flood.  The dance floor was filled, the music was hopping, it was starting to become quite the party.  We were all dancing and enjoying ourselves and it was a pretty quality night and then everything went to straight to H-E-double hockey sticks.

It was getting late so we left the club and went in search of a place to stay.  We were planning on staying the night in karaoke bar because you can rent a room until like 8am, but there weren’t any close.  We happened upon a love hotel, which is a hotel where you can rent a room for an hour or so, or the whole night and….love someone.  Adrienne worked her magic with the guy at the front desk and we were able to get a room for 12000 Yen.  That’s a bout $30 a person.  Not bad for Tokyo. 

The next morning we woke up, got ready to meet Chris for Adrienne’s tattoo appointment, and I realized my purse was missing.  FML.  Game over.  Life over. City of misfortune.  I searched the room through and through.  I checked everyone else’s bags, I wandered the streets, I went back to the club but it was closed and wouldn’t open again until 3pm.  My purse was nowhere to be found.  Everything was gone. 

Now I know that losing those possessions was incredibly stupid and irresponsible and I felt horrible.  I wanted to dig a deep, deep hole and crawl into it and never come out.  I felt ashamed that this kind of idiocy could have happened to me.  Who leaves their purse with ALL OF THEIR BELONGINGS and OTHER PEOPLE’S belongings in a club.  WHO? I do.  Sooooo sooo sooo stupid.

We met up with Chris and told him the situation.  He immediately brought us to a police cube, which they have on nearly every street and we reported the loss/theft.  I could barely talk.  I couldn’t eat.  I felt terrible that this was putting a huge, black rain cloud over everyone’s second-to-last day in Japan.  I didn’t want anyone to miss out on their plans because of my foolishness.  Kendra had planned to meet up with Mary, so I told her to go.  Adrienne wanted to get a tattoo, Jill was going to go to the Pokemon store, and we both had tickets to go to a Japanese baseball game and I didn’t want her to miss it.

Kendra went off at noon to meet Mary, Jill met up with Win to tell him she couldn’t come to the Pokemon store, and then Adrienne, Chris, Jill and I went to eat since it was noon and we hadn’t eaten.

I didn’t eat.  I just sat, wanting to wake up from the nightmare I was in.  I decided that I would go back to the club at 3 to make sure my bag wasn’t there.  I hoped and prayed and wished it would be there.  Everyone kept telling me that if you lose something in Japan, people will turn it in to the closest police station.  They told me no one steals.  City of lies.

After everyone ate, Chris took Adrienne to get her tattoo.  Jill and I came with and waited while the tattooist embellished the design and colored it in and drew it on Adrienne’s shoulder.  We watched him start the process and then Chris, Jill, and I went back to the train station so Jill could catch a train to get back to the ship in Yokohama and meet up with the people going to the baseball game.  Jill was really hesitant about leaving me, since I literally had nothing.  No passport, no credit card, no debit card, no cash, no phone, not even the green information sheet we are given by SAS for each port that has important phone numbers and addresses on it.   Chris let me use his phone to call Mary, though, and I planned to meet Kendra and Mary in another district of Tokyo, so I wouldn’t be totally alone. 

So we went to the train station and got a guard to open our locker since the key was in my purse.  That cost extra.  Then we got our huuuuge backpacks out and Jill hugged me goodbye.  She gave me about 4000 Yen since I had no money.  She was so good to me.  Such a good friend.  She really didn’t want to leave me, either, but I didn’t want her to miss out on Tokyo because of me.  Adrienne had also been incredibly nice and understanding.  I don’t know why they were being so nice, because I didn’t feel like I deserved anyone’s sympathy.

 Jill left, and Chris helped me catch the right train to meet up with Kendra and Mary.  I found them in the train station in Asakusa.  I told them my plan to go back to the club and if all else fails to go the US Embassy to get a new passport.  The embassy seemed like a last resort because I was still holding on to the idea that I would find my purse in the club.  It is the city of magic, anyway.

They told me they planned to see the Thunder Gate and some other sights. I didn’t want to impede on Kendra’s time with her friend nor her one chance to see these things in Tokyo and I told them this.  But I also told them that I had nothing.  I didn’t know the language, the area, I had no way of contacting anyone, I had very little money.  So Kendra wrote down some phone numbers and the address of the embassy from her green sheet on a piece of paper for me, and I went off in Tokyo, on my own.  Completely alone, apart from my 30-pound backpack.  I was scared out of my mind.

I got on a train back to Shibuya and went in search of Vuenos.  I stopped in a hotel and asked for directions, but the concierge didn’t speak good English and didn’t really know where the club was.  A guy behind me was talking in English so I asked him if he knew the club Vuenos.  He did and he wrote out directions for me.  City of miracles.  After about 45 minutes of traveling on my own in Tokyo, wandering the streets, making wrong turns, staring wide-eyed at the Japanese characters on the train maps, taking wrong turns, I found the club.  I knocked on the door, asking to go in and look for my purse.  No one spoke English.  I gestured and spoke slowly.  They sent me up to the office above the club and the same thing happened.  Finally they let me in and the Japanese man I had been talking to told me I wouldn’t find it.  A band was tuning up on stage, as I hunted for my purse.