Waka Waka

"The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land." G. K. Chesterton

How are we already done with Europe and Africa? We are making quick headway into South America, and it'll be back to real life before we know it.

Cape Town was a city of contrasts. My days were packed with learning about its history, issues and development in the day, as Bob and Alice planned a wonderful itinerary for us, while we packed as much as we could into our free time, at night. I officially got 8 hours of sleep over the 4 nights we had, but it was worth it for a city I definitely need to go back to.

Going into the township on the first day, I was struck by how terribly the conditions were painted, and I say that because to me, they were no better or worse than the 'sampa' in Sabah (the farmhouse my mum grew up in, and we used to visit as kids), apart from the lack of land surrounding them, and the stark contrast with which they stood in relation to the urban buildings around. I had been expecting worse - something like the slums in India, and was met with slight bemusement as we saw the modern technology like televisions and speakers in the houses we went into. I realized that we are invariably influenced by the lens through which we are told to look, but who are we to say what is 'poor' or conversely 'wealthy' enough, in deciding where to allocate resources? The townships still do not have running water, six to eight households share an external shack as a toilet, and there are severe economic and social conditions that cannot be seen merely from a guided walk through them. As the pastor of JL Zwane, who does amazing work connected to HIV/Aids prevention and help explained, some people who can afford to move out of the townships even stay, to help the rest of the community move up, as that is sometimes their only connection to the outside world. While some of us felt uncomfortable just waltzing into the area and into people's houses, we later learnt that they did it just for themselves as much as for us, as the adults in the community wanted to expose their children (everyone in the township is usually black) to the fact that people of other colors can exist, to prepare them for going out to work in Cape Town when they are of age. It was a sobering moment when he told us to think about the kids we met at the primary school (who were really some of the friendliest, most adorable ones I've met recently) - 15% of them are orphans, 10% of them are living with HIV/Aids, 15% of them have single parent homes, and 15% of them have parents living with HIV/Aids. It was intense.

There are many times during travel where I have been grateful for my background. While I am in no way 'at home' in rural landscapes, and will admit am very much a spoilt prissy city girl sometimes, I have just come to realize its the exposure i had to the sampa and other less 'clean' environments as a kid that might have prepared me somewhat for Cambodia, India, and everywhere in between thus far. I guess I should remind myself how things can come to make sense years after, as everything invariably affects your life in little ways.

Over the next few days, we visited parliament, spoke to a cool young MP who told me to email him for places to go at night, who I later find out is mandela's grandson, making it less cool when everyone freaks out about it,  met Mary Burton who was one of the original six protestors and part of the Truth and Reconciliation council, saw how upper-middle class blacks live, met Craig Arendse, a very skilled mediator who's cases we role-played in class, visited the District 6 museum, the actual District 6 and drove out to the Cape of Good Hope.

I was struck by issues of inequality and racism, but also recovery and hope. Is it possible for a country to truly move on from such a recent, horrific past, when they are still staring at the issues right in front of their face? Talking to Storm, my couch surf host, who was white, he explained how it still always boils down to issues of race, with failures in education or economics blamed on apartheid. And this might rightly be so, but apartheid ended 20 years ago, with 1/3 of the current population having grown up under new policies of equality, at least officially. 

This was what I wrote for the explorer seminar I put together for people to hear the different perspectives of those of us who got to do the workshop (and it was amazing how I just asked everyone to share what touched them the most, and everyone literally had a different focus and we covered all the grounds collectively):

" The thing I've been thinking about most from our workshop with Bob and Alice is how one of the first steps to conflict mediation is finding common ground. And there always seems to be a common ground – even if it is not immediately apparent, or the common ground itself serves as the catalyst for conflict. Going into Cape Town, I felt that despite it still being a very polarized society of extremes, the common sentiment was for recovery and progress. But I wonder if it is possible to pursue both at once, or if the focus on one will lead more naturally to the other, because as we all noticed, there are still many cracks under the surface.

  Going into communities like the township, a question that always weighs on my mind is potential sustainability of service. I believe in doing service abroad, but only if it is done right. The pastor explained to us that he would like volunteers for a longer term of a few months to a year who would effect systemic change, although he would still welcome short term volunteers for things like painting houses. I wondered then, about whether a culture of local community service existed, given the hugely visible discrepancy and the public sentiment of apology for grievances commited in the past. When I asked the pastor if private schools  come to volunteer in the township, he told me "Yes, of course! In fact a team from Canada is coming for a few days from tomorrow." I had to repeat local private schools three times before he understood, and then he looked surprised and said "no, no they don't come." So, I've been thinking about the possibility of having overseas volunteers focus on working with advantaged kids from local private schools, teaching the service learning cycle and instilling community spirit instead of working directly with the township. It would be helping the country help themselves, and maybe serve as a way to reconcile the goals of recovery and progress. The nature of overseas volunteer work however, is that it eventually has to come to and end, and people want to see their results. It is harder to work for the big picture than to rely on emotion. It might also be hard if both sides are still heavily preoccupied with race. Walking through the township, everyone was welcoming to us foreigners, but I was caught in the middle of a very uncomfortable situation with our white tour guide, who was greeted by a black woman in her African language, took a little too long to answer, and was accused of 'being hypocritical and fake' 'Why should I have to learn your language when you don't care about mine', she said. It revealed the deep divide or sore emotions that still exist. As one of the white locals I was speaking to said 'If they make it all about race, or use it as a fallback when the education or economy sucks, it will always be all about race, and we can never truly develop.

 Honestly, the biggest thing I got out of our course, and this is going to be terribly cheesy, is that while I still don't know what path life will take me or even what I want to do for sure, I know who I want to be. I want to be touching lives, making a difference, still travelling, working in a team and still scuba diving when I'm 73, or basically, Alice."

Bob and Alice were really so, so sweet. And yet they revealed that they almost didn't make it through their first year of marriage, despite now nearing their 50th. I guess nothing's perfect, and you just gotta be able to feel what's worth it?

It wasn't all societal issues and exposure. I didn't get to do things like a Big 5 safari, shark cave diving or the highest commercial bungee, but I did catch some pretty good views of penguins and whales and visited a Hindu temple on a whim where we danced at a religious festival, sticking out like sore thumbs. It was a different kind of dance on Long Street, where we paid full homage to our motto 'Sleep is for the Ship'. I never fail to be amazed by the ability of people to let themselves…. go, since I like retaining control of what i'm doing, lol. Might have done some silly things the night I ran on 0 hours though, or the reason why I had 0 hours…. The Cape of Good Hope was STUNNING, I love being reminded of the beauty of the world.

Keep catching viruses from my roommate. Coughing like a dog now it sucks hope I get better asap :(((

First taste of Africa

"When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable."

                       – Clifton Fadiman

This will be such a long post, but I want to remember not just how much we packed into our 4 days but also the thoughts I'm still grappling with. 

Ghana surpassed any and all expectations I had – although this is becoming a theme for every port and even the SAS voyage itself. It's hard to know where to start; every experience was so distinct and brought so much in terms of reflection and emotion. I may just have to go in chronological order, coming back on the ship has been slightly overwhelming as we are expected to settle back into the routine even with all this floating around in our heads (or maybe just mine).

I started with a 2D1N Tafi Monkey Village Homestay. We made it to the Wili waterfalls, which are the highest in West Africa, two hours after we were supposed to, and skipped the Lake we were supposed to have lunch at. They were spectacular, and we (meaning Natasha, Joyce and I) wanted more time there, and were the last to leave. Having come from countries where nightfall was late, it was an opportune moment to learn that Ghana is pitch dark by 6.30, and we had our precarious 45 minutes hike next to the rapid river back, with limited flashlights or phones. It gave me déjà vu of the Reed canyon at night, and I wonder if going back will now conjure memories of Ghana.

We made our way to the village, where we had dinner. To me, it seemed like a relatively rich village, with signs of wealth such as electricity, toilets, dustbins and some houses even had satellites. It was interesting then, that they gave us simply rice and a single hardboiled egg with sauce for dinner, not only because of the price we were charged for the tour, and the concept of hospitality usually extended, but my knowledge that they do eat better than that. It was delicious and satisfying, but I wondered if they did that to fulfill our expectations of poverty, knowing that we had signed up to experience 'typical Ghanaian village life'. We were invited to watch their traditional dance and join them after, and yet it again felt like a routine, one where they were obliged to put on but took no real joy in doing. I may have been over sensitive, because I don't think many of the rest felt it, but I kept going back to Cambodia, where the pride in being able to show us their culture because we had shown them ours was sincere and palpable. I suppose it boils down to the difference in exposure – the Tafi village gets tons of visitors passing through for the monkeys – and nature of exchange – we were simply paying to stay there, whereas in Cambodia it was more in deed.

We are told that only 8 people can do the homestay and 7 of us have to stay in a guesthouse. Surprising, considering that we had all signed up to homestay, but I let someone else who obviously wanted it a lot do the homestay. The guesthouse was decent, but in contrast to the slightly ridiculous reactions of the other SASsers I was with, some of them 20 year old boys, I now tell people that it felt 'like a 3-star hotel to me', because their discomfort made me shy the other way. One also does not get HIV through tiny, obviously washed stains on the sheets. While I didn't get the 'Ghanaian village experience' and other people on the trip have been vocally unhappy with the 'ignorance' of some of the rest, I felt the new knowledge that such stereotypical white people do exist might actually be more valuable than a 'cultural immersion' which had to be taken with a pinch of salt anyway. Thank you Singapore for making us do OBS. I also think these Americans should all go through NS. 

Going into Ghana, I hoped to be pushed out of my comfort zone, but wasn't too sure I would be. Indeed, in terms of my exposure to Ghana alone, I was completely comfortable. As Yihui remarked, the vibe might even feel more similar to Singapore than the US does, strangely. Yet, on our second day, I felt the strongest sense of distress than I have in a long while. We have 30,000 toothbrushes on the ship, courtesy of Global Grins, an organization started by SAS alumni that I find really respectable, and had been tasked to 'distribute' them to those who needed it, in the countries we were visiting. Of course, this immediately raises the question of how this would be done in a sensitive and informed way. We had some time to visit the village school, and even after I gave them suggestions to ask teachers if we could give them out in class, as we definitely did not have enough for the whole school, some geniuses decided to start handing them out to kids in the courtyard. Chaos ensued, of course. Kids come running out of class, snatching at toothbrushes, and it ends with teachers storming out of class, yelling, and very disgusted looks on the faces of adults around. As damage control, I had to ask a teacher if we could enter her classroom, and as the cameras are whipped out to document the glorious act of handing out brushes they did nothing to procure to kids they did not know, my heart dropped. I felt physically sick at the way things had turned out, sure that this was possibly being repeated by other SASsers around Ghana, aware that I was grouped and looked at as one of the 'Americans', and that I could have prevented the situation, but did not do enough. It was sad. There is so much potential in the intention of the program – 30 000 toothbrushes is no small figure. On hindsight, the speed at which the kids came grabbing and asking for things was also disturbing, and has prompted some discussion about 'saving Africa' and the means by which is should be done. If there's one thing I got out of the homestay though, it was a deeper and treasured friendship with Eugene. I couldn't get a pin in Ghana, which I've been trying to in each port, but his Citadel pin to me is representative enough of this wonderful port. I might have reached a point where I do not expect a lot from each experience, but rather just something real and lasting, and meeting someone you can count on is no small feat. Talking to Dillon, who remarked that there were times he did wish he was back on the ship and how we always look towards where we are comfortable when we are not, it was interesting, because I not once wanted to be back 'on the ship', but yearned multiple times for my friends, since the cause of my discomfort were other SASsers.

We buck it to Accra, where we find out that our 'Rising Phoenix Hotel' is actually a pretty shitty beach chalet, saved by breathtaking views. It is also inhabited by pot-smoking hippies. Whatever, sleep is for the ship. Trying to rush to the Magoli Market, we choose potential shopping spoils over lunch, except Joyce and I get sidetracked by a roadside grill selling chicken – its pretty funny to see Americans freaking out about us eating street food btw – and next thing we know, we've lost Natasha and Jarvis. After roaming up and down the street looking for them, we give up, and decide to regroup back at the hotel, later that night.

Joyce's friend Yihui meets us, and we get our first introduction to Ghanaian public transport. We ask a ton of people where to get a trotro, which are essentially privately owned minivans that shuttle people to various locations along a fixed route, to her university, and get different answers from each. Most common was that it was late and we should just take a taxi, but I'm pretty sure that's because we were all yellow, and they did not know Yihui had been there for two months. We also get our first introduction to Ghanaian friendliness and hospitality.

This is getting too long so I shall start typing in point:

University:

- Meet, interview and get interviewed by Yihui's roommate and her friends. Shocked by the candid answers we got ("What do you want to experience before you die?"
"Marriage and sex" we had to ask her to repeat it thrice because no one in the room could believe what we heard HAHA), learned the Abuntu, the Ghanaian equivalent of Gangnam-style

- Delicious Jollof rice that tasted very much like something we can get in Singapore, egg sandwich and kebab, with Joyce and I together paying less than what the tour charged us for a packed, mediocre lunch.

- Understanding the extent of Ghana's religious fervor (there are Christian bumper stickers, shop names and billboards EVERYWHERE) when we see a soccer field full of evangelizing and praying people that Yihui informs us are there ALL NIGHT, every single night.

- Got cool shit from the seamstress! Joyce and I thought we would look like jokes wearing our hoodies on the ship, but the opposite has been true

Night in Accra:

- We decide to check out a Ghanaian club, which obviously isn't very popping, considering it's a Tuesday. The only SASsers there are the four of us, and almost the entire black community. Joyce and I get frustrated, and head outside to discuss alternatives,  where we meet a local guy who says he now works in Hongkong and is back for holiday. He offers to bring us around tomorrow, wherever we want to go. We are a bit sketched out, but agree since a cab would be 150USD, and Joyce puts her PR skills to work for the rest of the night while I chill with the rest and marvel at a dancer we think might be crazy.

- Try to look for another place after club closes, obviously unsuccessful and stop for roadside MILO!!! and sandwiches instead. Natasha and Joyce are hilarious when they drink. Get back at 6 and make plans for Benzine to come get us at 8.30

Trip to the slave castles:

- Benzine does come and pick us up, we spend a while exchanging money and popping into a few shops for Natasha to look for stuff to buy

- Stop by a police station to get a report so that we don't have to bribe police officers on the way. It says we have already been arrested for failing to put on seatbelts – no one does in Ghana and the front ones have even been completely removed.

- Encounter police block on the way, still have to bribe them anyway, because we 'don't have a fire extinguisher in the car'. Joyce and I are feeling very Singaporean and paiseh about Benzine driving us, and whip out 10 cedi ($5) so he doesn't have to, it's actually quite eye-opening and exciting to witness the negotiation between someone who obviously knows what's happening and someone who has the power. Benzine's brother was a policeman, so he had even met the officer asking for a bribe before, and that wasn't even enough. Roadblock passed, we get scolded because even 10 cedi is too much, and he was just going to dig in his pocket for spare change and give him 2 cedi. Going into Ghana, we learnt that they are the 2^nd least corrupt country in Africa. Our friends also told us an epic story of a car chase along the same coast, with their taxi driver fed-up of having passed 10 road blocks just speeding away. Since such petty corruption is still so prevalent on the ground, I can't really fathom the state of other countries, and wonder how much detriment this causes to the larger economy as a whole.

- We make it to Cape Coast and are all for visiting Cape Coast Castle, a UNESCO Heritage Site, but Jarvis insists that the one we, or rather he, needs to go to is Almina castle, where the door of no return is. He also alleged that it was the one Obama went to and cried, although we have found out it was Cape Coast, which Joyce and I thought. Lesson learnt: Sometimes the loudest voice does win. We had been driving 3 hours, Almina was an hour away, adding 2 hours in total to a trip we wanted to return from asap so that we could see more of Accra but obviously, despite it being 3vs1, it was not up for negotiation, since he was black and visiting his motherland. I sound like a bitch, but we were really annoyed by his insistence despite him having played no part in us getting driven, yet acting like he ran the show. He would have had to figure everything out alone and pay for it had we not coincidentally been in the same hotel. Coming back on the ship, I also found out the other friends I had been planning to go with, if we hadn't met Benzine, managed to do both the Cancun National Park's canopy walk and the slave castle, because they went to Cape Coast. We were amazed at his self-entitlement, thick skin, and stinginess, although Joyce and I have realized, even before then, that Singaporeans do have a different approach towards money and manners.

- Almina castle was a powerful experience – there was still a stench in the dungeons, left from faeces and dead bodies that had piled there way back, and it was impossible to even try to imagine how much worse it would have been. I've come to believe though, that we go into such horrific places (like concentration camps) expecting to feel something, and those feelings are met. To me, nothing has been worse than the Khmer Rouge museum in Pnom Penh, but that may be due to the emotional connection I had already built up with the Cambodians, who in the larger economic scheme are still suffering from its destructive effects. While we have heard all about the strength of the experience from the black people on the ship, it's obviously a lot different for me, because I'm not black, and all I can marvel at is the ability of humankind to be as evil as it can be good. There is a fine line between the two within each of us – society is supposed to keep individuals that cross over in check, which I feel makes it all the sadder when it has failed to or still does.

- Benzine and Murad (Alanna's couchsurf host, who I met that night) also said they do not feel as emotional when visiting those castles, and that it's an African-American thing. That makes sense, as the ancestors of Ghanaians were definitely not slaves. Taken one step further though, it seems almost ironic that the African-Americans are so ready to embrace their 'brothers' upon returning to Ghana. As Murad said candidly, in his fashion, it wasn't just the white people responsible for the slave trade – his ancestors might have sold theirs.

- We were accosted outside the castle by peddlers trying to sell the bracelets and seashells they had made with Natasha and Joyce's names written on them. I had not told them mine, having predicted this would happen. Yet, as I become a savvier traveler, I wonder how I should balance between being aware and too skeptical in future, as I considered the many points in our voyage we literally went on our guts and trusted complete strangers.

Refugee camp:

- It was too late to make it back to Accra for shopping, so Benzine suggested we stop by the Liberian refugee camp. Jarvis was reluctant, as he wanted to rush back to Tema to meet people, but we insisted. The 10 minutes of conversation I had with a man there was the most impactful of my whole time in Ghana.

- While Natasha was looking at scarfs, Joyce and I wander off nearby to the market, where most stalls were closed. We were beckoned by a man, and being Singaporean pigs, were disappointed to see he was selling some sort of unidentifiable leaf that looked like it should be garnishing, as we wanted food.

- This is the story he told me: He had crossed into Ghana 12 years ago, with his wife and children. This man had a more than decent command of English, and seemed relatively educated, but he could not get a job in the city because the local Ghanaians spoke Twee amongst themselves, even though it would be legal for him to. His wife and children had been able to go back to Liberia, but for some reason, he was in political trouble and would be arrested if he went back, although all he wants now is to go back to his country and family. Because he is a man, he gets no aid, and although he writes letters to the UNHR, it is a slow process with no promised happy ending, and he 'watches the years go past, and is stuck selling leaves in the market at 36'. I feel that this is not just his one story, but a common predicament many of them probably share. As Benzine came to get us to leave, he grasped my hands and said: "You're not writing this down, and I know you can't do anything, I don't expect you to even try, but please, what I told you, just remember, keep it in there", gesturing to his head. I still don't know why, but it killed me to leave.

We head back to Accra, bid our farewells to Benzine and get into a cab to Tema. Benzine was completely worn out, having driven 8 hours on 2 hours of sleep. The willingness of strangers to go out of their ways for us still takes me by complete surprise, each time. How many of us know people who would spend the whole day taking 4 random tourists almost half your age you met at a club and who weren't very well-behaved, polite, or exceptionally interesting around? I don't. 

Reggae party

- We decide we really don't want to hit the local Tema club with a ton of SAS people, and instead choose to go to a reggae party on the beach, with other SAS people! With MM (someone we don't really like) as our only assured company, as we had bumped into him getting off the ship, I was not the happiest kitten. I also was not really comfortable with how J and N were in such a rush to get off the ship so we could make it to a liquor store so we were assured of 'enough alcohol to get fucked up'. I know they didn't mean it that way, but I really dislike it when people have to rely on alcohol to have fun. I almost went back to the ship so I could be assured of an early start on our last day, but I had promised and did not want to leave them alone either.

- Going was such a blessing in disguise though. After irritating Joyce and Natasha by being a grump, (despite assuring them I really wasn't angry, I guess I still can't hide my feelings) we meet Alanna and her couchsurfing host! Murad and I hit it off like a roof on fire, and we spend the next one and a half hours in deep and invigorating exchange. I only know it was that long because Natasha said she spent 1.5 hours dancing. The fact that we were at a reggae festival on a beach, with a ton of other SASsers, and I was conversing with a random Ghanaian I'd met 5 minutes ago and enjoying every minute of it still strikes me as bizarre. His father also worked for a Singaporean shipping company and he happened to go to high school in Ethiopia (one of my closest bros at Reed is from Ehiopia). Sometimes I wonder if the world is small, or fated, or we just find many coincidences that we attach significance to. Either way, its nice.

- Barefoot, in the sand, with only locals and a random girl from Portland we met around me, to really good music, I obviously danced my face off till we had to leave. 

- J and N were kinda drunk, had to take care of them, but had help from Adon, poster boy of niceness, and got us all safely on the ship without anyone getting drunk tanked.

Last day in Accra

- Wonderful day in the city with Alanna and her hosts, perfect way to end Ghana and I know it's a new friendship I'd want to keep up.

I thoroughly enjoyed my four days in Ghana, and even moments where I felt inner conflict were good in prompting deeper contemplation, so I was not prepared for what seemed like an outpour of negativity from many of the people on the ship as we returned (not from our friends of course, I'm so grateful for our chill bunch). There have been many similar stories of ignorant, or even culturally insensitive SASsers. However, far from the anger and complete revulsion the others feel, I think OSL has influenced me to see the potential in these people. I may be naive, but I felt that these people stand the most to gain in terms of ability to change, and we had to be empathetic in understanding that this may be the first exposure many of these people have had to developing countries or even immersion in a different culture, and it does take time to adjust. I'm sure they mean no harm. I expressed these views at post port reflection, and I was heartened by how many people came up to me after to thank me for that, or say they agreed. Now it's even in a small segment of this week's SEA TV which is being aired on the ship, but I'm still not sure how I feel about that. Kinda killing the unofficial motto Steph and I have of 'keeping things on the down low'…… It has got me thinking about how much more could be done to make SAS better though and I have spoken to the dean about it. Hopefully the proposal I will write up will go somewhere.

Something interesting that has happened on the ship lately also is a lot of talk about race. It is strange to me that visiting Ghana, the first port on our voyage that was vastly different in environment and development from what people were used to, would spark conversation about color, diversity and division instead… and it was started by the African American students on board, who were so happy to finally be the majority. It seems to defeat the purpose of us going to so many different countries and seeing cultures when they just relate all of it back to issues of black and white in America. There was a diversity talk, and it went on for THREE HOURS till midnight. I've never been so aware of my 'race' as on this ship, which is really ironic, or a microcosm of larger American society I've been blissfully unaware of in my Reed bubble.

I've many more thoughts, but this is long enough, its getting late, and I've to wake up in 5 hours to see us pull into Cape Town!!! I was a little bummed that I won't get to do any of the 'fun' stuff like climbing table mountain, safaris, bungee jumping, shark cage diving or even just wandering around as I have the peace building itinerary planned out for me, and whale watching as a field lab on the last day. I realized though, that I could not be luckier. We are meeting with great figures in South African society, and its only possible because they are personal friends of our workshop instructors, Alice and Bob Evans, and this is truly a once in a lifetime opportunity. Table Mountain and the animals will wait, and we still have at night to hang out with our friends.

I'M SO EXCITED!

Who read till the end?!?!?! Please leave me comments and tell me how long you took and how you feel too lol this was really kinda ridiculous...

Halfway through

Francesco told us yesterday that at the stroke of midnight, we were officially past our halfway mark. It was definitely an emotional realization, how has time flown by so far, and what can we do to make the most out of our remaining days? In our days left, we don't even have as much port time as before, as we are spending more time on the ship. As we like to ask, how are we going to go back to real life apart from each other?!?! Gotta deal, suite life can't last forever.

I'm still sorting out my thoughts about Ghana, and this serves as warning that a monster post is coming up… but the days back on the ship have been jam packed too. Nothing like a departure from what we know to serve as catalyst for meaningful and provocative conversation, and this is cliched but Im really learning so much more from people around me and my experiences than from class or work. It hasn't been easy, but it's valuable.

We crossed the equator the first day back after Ghana, and that's a special occasion called 'Neptune Day'. We are woken up early with shellbacks (people who have crossed before) banging pots and pans, and go through rituals such as having 'fish guts' poured over us, kissing a fish and having salt sprinkled over us, to graduate from being 'pollywags'. We were even conferred the title 'Emerald Shellbacks' because we crossed the equator on the Prime Meridian, or passed through 0'0. Another tradition though, is for people to get their heads shaved, because in the old days this helped to remove insects that could transmit diseases. Its strange to see so many bald heads around the ship too, mostly boys although some girls did too, and while some look pretty dapper, I miss F and D's hair!! Hahaha. Many girls did the side shave thing - I almost did too - but decided against it since its NBD at Reed anyway and I NEED AN INTERNSHIP.

I've been in a Conflict Resolution and Peace Building workshop with two of Desmond Tutu's best friends (he was supposed to lead it and be on the ship too but he's getting an award from the UN, sigh) and it's been revealing, if not slightly draining, on top of the Marine Bio midterm t had no idea how to study for today and last night's presidential scholar presentation. Overall though, been enjoying my time just being around chill people.

Two observations: its the small things that matter and illuminate, and I'm really quite clear now about what kind of people i need to be with.

Most obnoxious medication ever

Malaria pills, which I already knew from previous encounters for Cambodia are the worst pills ever, are giving me some really weird, vivid dreams. I know objectively its a side effect that could be expected, although I did not experience them before, but they're screwing up my sleep cycle and making me waste too much time in bed :x Thankfully I haven't been getting seasick unlike many of my peers, but the pills are causing nausea. Add the hormonal havoc it wrecks to PMS… and the emotions are really going into overdrive.

Maybe getting Malaria would be a form of pushing myself out of my comfort zone and I should just forego the preventative medication??????
Haha just kidding (wish I wasn't).

Belonging

I miss glitter, having totally random things no one else believes actually happens as our school traditions, mistiness and organic food, the polished homeless look…
I miss people I grew up with, the careless nature of summer, the security of home and the tastes we return to….
I miss being in the middle of a little province in Kampuchea, but also losing myself in the anonymity of NY/LDN/BCN, with just those few as lifelines of comfort.

At the same time, I laugh all the time with the people here, sometimes I wonder if our happiness borers on obnoxious. i still revel in being surrounded by endless shades of blue, basking in the perfect mix of sun and wind. I know that I'll miss all of this, intensely, when it's over. And it's already hitting us hard, how we WILL be heartbroken when we have to part.

We talked about the sense of belonging in the Meaning Making group today, and although I didn't feel it was as enriching as the last session, it made me realize how fortunate I am to have found multiple communities where I truly feel a sense of belonging. It makes yearning worth it.

It's hard to always consider the Precious Present. Oh well… Precious Problems?

An unsatisfactory replacement

We spent two days in the Canary Islands, instead of going to Morocco.

A group of us went canyoning on the first day, and the sheer magnificence of the ravine literally blew my mind. Since canyoning, when there's no waterfall (because wet season hasn't started) essentially means abseiling down rock, it was just a day of pure fun. My favorite part, however, was the last part, where we had to trek quite a bit and do some actual rock climbing to get ourselves out, and it just made me want to take up climbing when I'm back at Reed.

At night, the people we usually hang out with, who had gone trekking in the day, had hooked up with some taxi drivers who promised to bring them and alcohol to clubs an hour away and back, for 20 euro. It was honestly a pretty good deal, but it just felt a little too extreme, for a night of partying that probably would be similar to any other. We did not want to go to the one heavily-populated SAS area in town either, so Steph, Dillon and I decided to chill and bask in each other's glorious company. if there is one thing I've learnt this port, its that a measure of a true friend may be someone you never need 'alone time' from… and this came after spending every waking hour with Steph, and still finding things to be surprised at, like we may essentially be the same person despite our very different backgrounds.

So Santa Cruz is cruising along fine so far, until the next (and our last) day, when we realize we really couldn't go potholing as we had planned, neither could we climb the volcano, because the park is closed on Monday. It's okay - we decide to stay and explore the city (another thing I've learnt since Cadiz… the definition of city is loose - some really feel more like towns, and it's confusing), but we don't realize that EVERYTHING is closed on Monday too, until it's too late to go anywhere further. We essentially spend our day wandering around mediocre parks, going to the supermarkets, and eating. Thankfully the food was really good.

As we were walking around though, the change in itinerary properly hit me. I remembered how Morocco literally was the port I looked forward to most, as I spent way too much time on the application and scholarship essays, how I got excited each time I read LegalNomads, because i could feel her genuine affection for that place, and I knew I would to, how this was supposed to be the first port to truly bring us away from everything we really knew or were comfortable with, and how Joyce and I had decided we would get there and figure how to make the best out of our 4 days, and Serene was going to help us with that. The Canary Islands are, objectively, a charming little place, but I don't understand how the SAS administration could tell us 'not to treat it like a Spring Break destination' (aka boozing and partying, for those in Singapore), when the two days they choose to dock there happen to be a Sunday and Monday, when there literally is nothing to do. I didn't see the point in getting drunk, but I don't blame the majority of the people on the ship who enjoy it and that did on the second day, because the alternative really wasn't much. It was the first time i had felt actual disappointment on SAS, but i guess that is part and parcel of realizing that you are simply a subject to larger, overarching world affairs people can't really control.

Well, I'm excited for Ghana!! I have a 3 day 2 night trip involving a home stay and visit to a monkey village planned out, and I really do love monkeys :p 4 days will again be too short, as always, but I'm really hoping to be met with experiences that will leave me uncomfortable, or reflective. It's been too long since I've been pushed out of my comfort zone.

Ship work is piling up. Need to get in touch with the inner Rafflesian again, although I fear that this time it's been lying dormant so deep, for so long, that it may just almost have disappeared…...