When Kerry and I stepped foot in Morocco last week, it wasn't the first time. We came here 17 years ago when we worked for the House of Representatives. This was back in the good ole days when they still allowed Congressional junkets. Alas, today one must find facts to justify such a venture.
Interestingly, we had just met a couple weeks before that trip. We had gone on only three dates -- first to Tortilla Coast on Capitol Hill, then bike riding to Mt. Vernon, and finally to a concert at Wolf Trap -- before heading to exotic Morocco with 20 other staffers. At that point, we weren't dating... just getting to know each other. But I can't think of a better place to get to know someone. Over couscous, tagines, and fresh dates, we each learned how the other traveled, handled jet lag, dealt with stress and enjoyed other cultures. Oh yeah, and we learned a thing or too about Morocco. It was a great trip.
Fast forward 17 years... to last week when we took our three children to Morocco to show them "where Mom and Dad first got to know each other."
We decided to dig deep in one place rather than try to cover the whole country in five days. So right after arriving into the Port in Casablanca, we sped to the Hassan II mosque to show them the largest one in the world. Somewhere at home we have a picture of the two of us there from our first trip.
Then we hopped a train to Fes. Along the four hour trip, we amused ourselves by playing tricks on the other college kids from SAS. Austin went to their compartment and standing outside the doorway said, "Hey, guys, did you hear there's a bar downstairs?" He then proceeded to walk forward, crouching down with every step to make it look like he was descending a staircase. Get it, downstairs? Most of the students got the joke, but one girl was so excited, she started putting on her shoes! Never mind that we were on a moving train in a Muslim country, and there was no bar or downstairs for that matter. Our kids thought it was the funniest thing. When we ran into them again in Fes, Austin was sure to tell her that there was a bar downstairs there too.
Now Fes is the oldest living medieval city in the Muslim world. More than 1200 years old, it is a veritable labyrinth of twisting passageways, tiny storefronts, and thousands of narrow streets. We were told that the zig zag lanes were intentionally designed to protect women, as someone following a woman would lose sight of her after she turned the next corner. Also, the door of one house would never face the door of another, lest someone catch a glance of a woman who lived there. Even if they did, she would be behind a wooden door with tiny holes in it for her to peer out. Men could use an open window on the door. Women also are not allowed to eat at certain types of establishments. Men drink coffee and watch soccer every evening in outdoor cafes, for example, while women sit 30 feet away on park benches. We couldn't help but notice these differences.
We stayed in a riad within the medina, or old city. A riad is like a bed and breakfast, but better. The narrow lanes of the medina can be dark and shadowy, but the houses are built around an atrium to let in light. Some even have swimming pools behind their enormous wooden doors. Our riad was built in a square around an atrium, but it has a covering over it, so it isn't too bright. The gorgeous tile mosaics and intricately carved wooden moulding on the ceiling and walls, however, more than make up for it. And if you need some sunshine, just head up the three story tiled staircase to the roof, where a sweeping view of Fes awaits you. The scene is at once pedestrian and beautiful: beige-colored houses, clotheslines holding that day's wash, flowers in clay pots, cats jumping nimbly from roof to roof, and everywhere you look, satellite dishes all pointed in the same direction. Just behind the city are the Riff Mountains, adding a verdant backdrop to the tableau.
We arrived on a Sunday afternoon and decided to explore the area around the walls of the city. Passing under the grand onion-shaped arched gate, we headed to the green hillsides beyond. We made a great discovery -- on weekends, Moroccan families head for the hills, literally. They bring picnics, cooking equipment, soccer balls, and blankets and enjoy the view of the city laid out before them. We were there in the spring, when wild flowers were blooming everywhere. Old women were weaving the flowers into wreaths which young girls then wore on their heads. An old man came by carrying a wooden tray piled high with almond-filled macaroons and thick slices of rolled up sponge cake. The French influence is alive and well in Morocco! We bought a cookie and cake for twenty cents and shared them among us. Delicious.
The kids had brought a soccer ball from home, and they began kicking it around the sloping grassy hill. It was hard to keep it under control, but the Moroccan kids were quick to help keep it in play. Soon, a boy named Abnor came over and organized a game with all the kids. They all had a great time, and I took a group photo, which was of great interest to them when I pulled it up on my camera screen. At the end, our kids presented the soccer ball to Abnor, and he held it tightly, particularly when the others began asking for one too. Judging by the deflated balls other kids were using, Abnor will enjoy this one!
Next up -- dinner in our riad. Sitting on elaborately-designed cushions, leaning back on fluffy pillows and surrounded by tiled mosaics of every color and pattern, we were brought olives, dates, and steaming bowls of lentil soup with soft, yeasty Moroccan bread. The second course was the famous Moroccan tagines: chicken with tender apricots for Kerry and me, and meatballs in tomato sauce topped with a cooked egg for the kids. Something wonderful happens when meat is cooked in the clay tagine pots! Though we had no more room in our bellies, we willingly ate the creme caramel with strawberries and chocolate drizzle for dessert.
The next morning, we climbed the stairs in the riad, up, up, up until we emerged into the light of day on the roof. A beautiful breakfast was laid out on a green tiled table -- fresh breads, corn meal cakes, Nutella, jam, yogurt, cheeses, and fresh squeezed orange juice. We heard roosters crowing and the sounds of the medina waking up as we ate in the bright morning light.
Once our tanks were full, we headed out to explore Fes. We had been warned repeatedly that it is essential to have a guide take you through the medina. Whenever we questioned if this was necessary, we were met with dire predictions, albeit vague ones. Robbery? Certain death? As it turned out, you don't need a guide at all! But there is a cabal among the riad owners, "professional guides," drivers, and shop keepers who all work together and share the profits. One store owner called it the mafia, and I can see why.
Anyway, our guide, Amina, dressed in a purple robe-like dress and a purple head-covering, took us first to a pottery-makking demostration. We saw artisans making beauitful pottery from the natural grey clay they get out of the ground. We watched a man use an old foot-powered wheel to spin the clay into a tagine. Then each of our kids had a turn at the wheel. They loved feeling the wet clay writhe and take shape under their hands. We saw artisans painting the pieces using homemade brushes made out of a single horsehair. There were men using ancient pick axes to cut tiny pieces of eight-sided pottery to be used in elaborate mosaics. Finally, we were ushered into a beautiful shop with -- surprise, surprise -- pottery of every shape and size to purchase. To the dismay of our guide and driver, we chose not to buy there.
Next, we entered the medina itself. Around 10:00 a.m., the media comes to life. Donkeys carrying loads of leather pieces or building supplies are driven fast through narrow alleys. If you don't smash yourself against the wall, you may lose a foot! In addition, little children wearing backbacks navigate the tiny streets. Shopkeepers selling clothes, vegetables, pots and pans, sunglasses, herbs, and ceramics all seek your business, but generallly in a polite way. Everywhere is the memory of France, which long occupied this country -- quiche, macaroons, escargot, baguettes, and my personal favorite, the Napoleon man who pushes a rickety cart loaded up with pieces of thick, custardy mille feilles. Yum.
As you walk within the maze of twisty streets, you ascend some steps and come out into a massive opening where the tanneries are. Morocco continues a fascinating tradition of hand-dyeing leather products. In giant open-air vats, almost the size of hot tubs, men place pieces of leather (goat, sheep, cow). Then they jump into the vats and work the leather with their hands, getting the dye to cover ther piece evenly and completely. The dyes are all natural. Poppies make a beautiful red color; saffron is yellow; cedar trees make the ubiquitous brown; mint leaves produce a lovely green color. The whole scene is like a colorful painting come to life. Truly, this was one of my favorite sights on the whole trip.
Next, our guide took us to the carpet shop. As we walked in, I said to my kids, "You've never lived until you've had a Moroccan try to sell you a carpet." It's quite an experience, and you just have to sit back, chuckle, and enjoy the show.
First, they usher you into the store with compliments and great fanfare. You then watch a woman making a carpet by hand, creating thousands of little knots of thread with lightning speed. Seriously, I took a video of her, and it looked like it was in fast motion. Then, they usher you into a grand showroom where they ceremoniously offer you very sweet, mint tea and offer you a seat on a soft cushion. Now the fun begins.
Laying before you carpet after carpet, they ask which styles you like and which ones you don't. You feel like a sultan directing your minions as they unroll, then move or remove carpets right and left. Finally, with a small pile left, the real salesmanship begins. When we asked if certain carpets were available in different sizes, etc., the man said, "If we don't have your carpet, it doesn't exist." Alas, ours didn't exist. But we did fall in love with a beautiful carpet of pastels and intricate designs that was the wrong size for our library. For over an hour, the man brought out replacement after replacement, but it was to no avail. As he himself predicted when we walked in, a carpet will touch your heart, and this one touched ours. Finally, with not a little disappointment, he offered to sell us this one but to wait until we got home to ship it, and if it wasn't the right size, he would commission another carpet just like it with the correct dimensions. At this point, the real negotiating began. We employed Charlie, our best bargainer, to get the price down for us. The owner kept laughing when Charlie -- blond curls bouncing -- would smile and say, "How about this price?" "What are you, Berber?" the owner would reply.
After we agreed on the price, we shook hands, and were offered a long and happy life by our salesman. But then we discovered a fascinating twist in Moroccan negotiating. As we were signing the paperwork he said, "Do you see that man over there? He is the one who will package your rug. You want him to do a good job, right? You need to tip him $20." When we questioned it, he said, "You want it to make it to your home in one piece, right?" He had a point. We paid the "voluntary" tip. This wasn't the last time. We were often asked to tip the artisan or "that guy over there" who had some stake in our wellbeing. I think that it's actually a way of the Moroccans saving face. Even if you bargain well, they get the last dig, so to speak, and they win.
As we walked out of the carpet store, Sydney said, "I can't believe we bought a rug in Morocco." I said, "You wouldn't believe how many people say that here."
Finally, we took a break from bartering to head to lunch. I would add, "You haven't lived until you've eaten a Moroccan meal." They begin with a variety of cooked vegetable dishes. The table is literally covered with small plates of olives, carrots, eggplant (my favorite), tomatoes prepared with sugar and cinnamon, fennel, fava beans, and lentils. You eat them with soft flat breads covered with a thin layer of corn meal. Tagines are the main course. Uncover these cone-shaped clay pots, and you discover lamb cooked with prunes and spices, chicken with apricots or lemons, or beef with carrots and potatoes. Basically a personal stew, but the most delectable flavors imaginable. Finally, when you are so full you can't eat any more, they bring out fresh oranges and strawberries or almond cookies with mint tea.
The Moroccan people are surprisingly warm and welcoming. They seem to have a real interest in engaging with foreigners. But we found that one thing was the biggest draw during our time there -- a Barcelona soccer jersey. Whenever the kids wore one, people would shout out in the medina, "Barca!" or "Messi!" and put their thumbs up. People would jump up to take pictures, and one guy came over with a "Messi" candy bar! Who knew? If you're heading to Morocco and want to make friends, don't forget to pack your Barcelona jersey!
Later, we explored some nearby villages in the Middle Atlas mountains. On the way, we passed an Oil Libya gas station, with a giant plaza and even a playground complete with a trampoline. We learned that people host events like weddings there. So you can gas up and marry your bride all at the same time!
Ifrane was a village that had a distinct alpine feel. In fact, it was built by the French in the 1930s to be a ski town, and its main hotel is called Chamonix. It's also home to one of the king's palaces, which we tried to explore before we were stopped by stern-looking, armed Moroccan guards.
Nearby, we visited a national park that was home to the famous Barbary apes. Our riad owner had kindly purchased bags of dried macaroni for the kids to feed the monkeys. The apes can be about 2 feet high, but they are gentle and their soft fingers usually take one macaroni piece at a time. They are shrewd however. When Sydney held her bag too low, a large ape came up from behind and swiped it from her. Soon after, Charlie's bag was swiped by one who immediately ran up a tree and crunched his pasta above us. Austin wisely gave his bag to Kerry to hold, but another ape almost grabbed it too! My favorite, was watching a baby ape pulling back the gums of his mother presumably to see if there was any spare macaroni in her mouth. Or maybe he was checking for cavities.
Our final excursion was to Volubilis. This was an ancient town founded by Carthaginian traders in the 3rd Century BC. Later inhabited by Romans, it has some substantial ruins, though only 40 percent of the site has been excavated. Having visited Jordan and Israel just two years ago, we weren't totally blown away. But that's just because we've been spoiled by Masada, Jerash, and the City of David in Jerusalem.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Morocco -- a Kaleidoscope of Color and Culture
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Wrapping up the voyage… thoughts near the end of Semester at Sea
Our trip around the world isn’t over yet. But it sure feels like the end is coming fast. From our room, to the ship, to the students around me, everything is beginning to wind down. I’m having to battle a deep sadness as I consider this adventure coming to a close.
Semester at Sea has been sailing for 50 years, but for the past 11 years, it has called the MV Explorer its home. It is a beautiful cruise ship – not with all the bells and whistles of Norwegian Cruise Lines, but a beautiful vessel, nonetheless, and one of the fastest cruise ships in the world. But two days after our voyage ends, the MV Explorer will be gone … sold to another company and supposedly revamped for cruising the Greek isles. What that means for us is the ship is gradually being stripped of all vestiges of Semester at Sea. First, all the large photos of students were removed from the walls, replaced by generic cruise ship décor. Then one day, the television monitor in the computer lab disappeared. SAS signage is coming down. Prices on MV Explorer memorabilia are drastically reduced. Kerry thinks the hand sanitizer stands will soon have "for sale" tags on them. Like it or not, we are all getting ready to say goodbye to the ship that has been our floating home for the past four months.
A friend of ours on the ship organized a “Sustainability Swap.” Basically it’s a garage sale where everything is for free. It’s been fascinating to see what people brought: copious amounts of sunscreen, lots of old t-shirts, tea bags, notebook paper, winter clothes, and hand sanitizer. There's a lot of Pepto being given away, which is probably a good sign. In our family, none of us ever got sick, for which we are very gratetfu! Many dropped off their seasickness patches, but some have noted that we haven’t sailed from Morocco to England yet, which can be notoriously rough seas. I held onto ours just in case.
What's even more interesting is what people took from the swap. Peanut butter was hugely popular. So were the mac-n-cheese cups. Chocolate didn’t last 60 seconds. Our favorite find was a set of ping pong paddles from China with 3 new balls. Our last ball had cracked the day before, and the paddles on the ship are awful, so we snapped those up right away. But overall, we gave more than we received, which was our goal.
Even the kitchen is trying to get rid of extra food before we dock in Southampton, England. On our last study day, we heard an announcement that the captain had an ice cream party for the whole ship… we just had to find it on board. Students (and people like myself!) jumped up from our deck chairs to begin hunting for the treat. We discovered the surprise on deck 2 with the dean and others scooping butter pecan with toppings for all of us. In addition to the ice cream, good French dijon mustard has appeared in the dining hall. There have almost been fist fights over the plums, peaches and grapes served at dinner. The executive chef prepared a delicious pasta tasting for the lifelong learners yesterday to further deplete the pantry. There’s a rumor that today’s meeting will include ice cream as well. As the ship lightens its load, I’m afraid we are all adding to ours. We better not forget to hit the treadmill!
The pool bar cashier came up to me today and said, “By the way, your sons are eating too much chocolate.” Actually, they aren’t eating that much. They’re buying up $.25 chocolate bars (even the pool bar is clearing out its stock) and sharing them with their friends, but I love that the waiters are checking up on my kids. It takes a village, I tell you. The boys have also found a new business venture. College students pay them to go to the snack bar, buy them food, then deliver it to their room. One girl named Lacey is their biggest customer. The kids call her Lazy.
The other thing that is really heating up right now is Scrabble. Kerry and I started playing a couple weeks ago, and now it has become a nightly ritual. The other day, some of the big guys who work out on the 7th deck came by while we were opening the box, and they said, “Scrabble?! Can we play?” When you take alcohol and the Internet out of the picture for college kids, they beg to play such games. The other day I was soundly beaten by three students from South America, for whom English is their second language! In addition to learning humility, I’m also learning all kinds of bizarre words with Q and Z in them.
The shipboard auction last week raised about $14,000. What was surprising was the items that garnered the students' attention and money. Peanut butter and Nutella went for about $220, and the winner returned the peanut butter! Enjoying a bubble bath in the dean's office went for hundreds of dollars. The dean made it clear he would not be there! One student paid $1100 to be the first person off the MV Explorer when we dock in England. She also bid to be the last person off, but didn't win. Kerry noted that with some poor choices in Morocco, you could get 8 hours of dock time in England, which would effectively give you the distinction of being the last student off the ship... for free!
A cruise wouldn’t be complete without controversy, and our ship was no exception. Sydney’s friend, a 12-year-old daughter of a professor, came through the halls one night telling all her friends that her mom had an affair with someone in leadership on the ship. Kerry and I were hesitant to believe the rumors, which spread like wildfire. But soon, we learned that her mom and an official had indeed left the ship in South Africa, and a new dean was selected from the faculty on board. The young girl and her father then left in Namibia to go figure out their new life, and the shipboard community was left reeling. The students, who have been admonished from the beginning to act responsibly and follow the honor code, understandably felt betrayed and angry, and we all have had to share a little more love and support since then.
On a brighter note, the other night Kerry and I were watching ping pong when suddenly everyone ran to the railing on the 7th deck. A pod of dozens of dolphins were swimming on both sides of our ship's wake. The sky was overcast, and the the dolphins' gray bodies matched the gray water, but we coudn't miss them. They jumped out of the water, and many would also spin, showing us their pink underbellies. It looked like they were showing off . They followed behind the ship for a few minutes -- splashing, twisting, and leaping -- then slowly receded from view. This was a great surprise and something I was hoping to see since the beginning.
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Namibia
How do you describe an African nation that feels like a German beach town with sand dunes, wild animals, and half a million seals? Very carefully, I suppose.
Namibia was originally not on our itinerary for Semester at Sea. Ghana was. But, as you know, Ebola hit West Africa, and so we steered very clear of that part of the continent. When SAS put Namibia on the list, all I knew about it was that Brad and Angelina went there on their honeymoon. Today, I know a lot more about this stunning country just northwest of South Africa., and I love it.
Namibia is a former German colony. It has a sordid past -- the Germans attempted a genocide of a Namibian tribe in the early 1900s. Terrible things happened on the very beaches that many Germans still visit on holiday. In fact, there are so many blond, blue-eyed people in Namibia, our children fit right in -- something we never expected in Africa!
Its checkered past aside, Namibia is an incredible place. The size of California and Texas combined, it only has 2 million people. That means you can drive for miles and miles and never see another person. It's like one giant national park with everything from deserts, to mountains, to misty beaches, to endless sand dunes. In short, it's stunning.
Our first adventure was to go camping in the Namib desert with 11 friends. Traveling with Wild Dog Safaris, an outstanding budget safari company, we drove six hours on a dusty, dirt road to Sessriem, on the edge of the world's tallest sand dunes. This was not an animal safair per se, but we were amazed to see many wild animals along the way. Mountain zebras blended in with the scrubby desert landscape. Springboks were hardly visible -- their coloring so camouflaged -- even though there were entire herds of them near the road. Giant ostriches ran through the open savannah -- often in threes, for some reason. Once we had to stop the car to let some wildebeests run by. "They have a face only a mother could love," Kerry noted. Even a jackal made his appearance and ran off after a few oryx in the distance. For a simple car ride through the country, we were downright spoiled with all the beautiful wildlife we saw. And if that weren't enough, we saw a complete double rainbow glowing over the desert!
On the way, we stopped at an outpost called Solitaire. It only has an inn, gas station, and bakery. The place is a total time-warp. Old rusted cars from the 50's stick out of the sand. Cacti grow up around rusted out tractor equipment. A chalkboard lists the amount of rainfall in the area -- 58 mm in all of 2013! But most important of all is the little shop that sells Moose McGregor's world famous, hot apple pie. Moose apparently was the guy who put Solitaire on the map. He died last year, and you overlook his grave as you enjoy your pie in the open air. It genuinely is the best apple pie around mainly because it's the only apple pie around. I mean,you're out in the middle of the desert, for goodness' sake. Whatever the case, it's delicious, and just like every other car that drove by, we had to stop and have a piece!
Just before sunset, we arrived at our campsite with a stunning vista of rocky mountains jutting out of the savannah. The kids jumped in the cold pool while our guides started making dinner, and I tried to capture the brilliant sunset with my little camera. It was woefully insufficient for such a task. Alas, Namibia is one of those places "you just have to be there." It's views are far too vast to ever be captured on film. But I tried anyway.
As night fell, a full moon illuminated the sandy ground of the camp, but even so, we could easily identify Orion and the Southern Cross above us. Dinner was rice and a chicken, vegetable stir fry that was so tasty, Austin had four servings! As you know, everything tastes better when you're camping, but this was downright delicious. A large scorpion made dinner extra exciting, but thankfully someone's shoe took care of it. Giant round beetles called talkie talkie bugs were crawling around in the sand, and other unidentifiable creepy crawlies inspired us to zip up our tents completely as we went to bed early. Little did I know we would have an adventure that night.
Namibia was originally not on our itinerary for Semester at Sea. Ghana was. But, as you know, Ebola hit West Africa, and so we steered very clear of that part of the continent. When SAS put Namibia on the list, all I knew about it was that Brad and Angelina went there on their honeymoon. Today, I know a lot more about this stunning country just northwest of South Africa., and I love it.
Namibia is a former German colony. It has a sordid past -- the Germans attempted a genocide of a Namibian tribe in the early 1900s. Terrible things happened on the very beaches that many Germans still visit on holiday. In fact, there are so many blond, blue-eyed people in Namibia, our children fit right in -- something we never expected in Africa!
Its checkered past aside, Namibia is an incredible place. The size of California and Texas combined, it only has 2 million people. That means you can drive for miles and miles and never see another person. It's like one giant national park with everything from deserts, to mountains, to misty beaches, to endless sand dunes. In short, it's stunning.
Our first adventure was to go camping in the Namib desert with 11 friends. Traveling with Wild Dog Safaris, an outstanding budget safari company, we drove six hours on a dusty, dirt road to Sessriem, on the edge of the world's tallest sand dunes. This was not an animal safair per se, but we were amazed to see many wild animals along the way. Mountain zebras blended in with the scrubby desert landscape. Springboks were hardly visible -- their coloring so camouflaged -- even though there were entire herds of them near the road. Giant ostriches ran through the open savannah -- often in threes, for some reason. Once we had to stop the car to let some wildebeests run by. "They have a face only a mother could love," Kerry noted. Even a jackal made his appearance and ran off after a few oryx in the distance. For a simple car ride through the country, we were downright spoiled with all the beautiful wildlife we saw. And if that weren't enough, we saw a complete double rainbow glowing over the desert!
On the way, we stopped at an outpost called Solitaire. It only has an inn, gas station, and bakery. The place is a total time-warp. Old rusted cars from the 50's stick out of the sand. Cacti grow up around rusted out tractor equipment. A chalkboard lists the amount of rainfall in the area -- 58 mm in all of 2013! But most important of all is the little shop that sells Moose McGregor's world famous, hot apple pie. Moose apparently was the guy who put Solitaire on the map. He died last year, and you overlook his grave as you enjoy your pie in the open air. It genuinely is the best apple pie around mainly because it's the only apple pie around. I mean,you're out in the middle of the desert, for goodness' sake. Whatever the case, it's delicious, and just like every other car that drove by, we had to stop and have a piece!
Just before sunset, we arrived at our campsite with a stunning vista of rocky mountains jutting out of the savannah. The kids jumped in the cold pool while our guides started making dinner, and I tried to capture the brilliant sunset with my little camera. It was woefully insufficient for such a task. Alas, Namibia is one of those places "you just have to be there." It's views are far too vast to ever be captured on film. But I tried anyway.
As night fell, a full moon illuminated the sandy ground of the camp, but even so, we could easily identify Orion and the Southern Cross above us. Dinner was rice and a chicken, vegetable stir fry that was so tasty, Austin had four servings! As you know, everything tastes better when you're camping, but this was downright delicious. A large scorpion made dinner extra exciting, but thankfully someone's shoe took care of it. Giant round beetles called talkie talkie bugs were crawling around in the sand, and other unidentifiable creepy crawlies inspired us to zip up our tents completely as we went to bed early. Little did I know we would have an adventure that night.
Our tents were arranged around a large acacia tree which had strange, half moon-shaped seed pods all over its branches. Once these pods dry out, they fall off the tree, and they rattle like maracas when you shake them. Even though these pods are so hard you can barely break them, they are the favorite food of springboks and oryxes. Well, around 11:00 p.m., I woke to the sound of bones crushing. At least that's what I thought until I looked out our transparent tent door and saw a springbok chomping on an acacia pod. He was about 18 inches from my face, and he was the cutest little guy! About an hour later, I awoke to more chomping, but this time it sounded like a monster was outside. I looked out to see a large oryx. The oryx is a majestic animal, sort of like a horse with straight, three foot long horns that slant back on its head. This one crushed some pods, checked out our cooking area, banged around our food trailer, and ultimately wandered off. I woke Kerry up for the animals, but he was sleepy and growing tired of the interruptions. I, on the other hand, couldn't get enough of our visitors. I stayed up listening and waiting for more. At one point, I saw an oryx walking on the horizon, and it was so tall, it looked like a giraffe! Finally around 1:00 p.m., we were awakened again ... this time by an enormous, six foot tall oryx who came right up to our tent . Mesmerized, we couldn't move, except when he came right toward our door, and we slowly backed our faces away from the canvas. We watched in awe, and he watched us, probably not so much in awe. After loudly chewing his pod, he ambled out of the campsite. Kerry and I just looked at each other and grinned, aware of the special moment we alone shared with this gorgeous creature.
We awoke in the dark to hurredly throw on our shoes and head out for the day -- to Namibia's iconic red sand dunes. After driving half and hour, we arrived at Dune 45 -- the famous dune already filling up with climbers who would watch the sunrise from its ridge. We huffed and puffed, amazed at how hard it was to climb the 175 -meter hill, but the view was more than worth it! We sat down in the cool red sand and watched as the sun peeked over the mountains and turned the beige dunes into brilliant reddish-orange pyramids. They literally glowed in the early morning light.
If others were hoping for a contemplative moment in the desert, I'm afraid my boys took care of that. They had a ball playing, rolling, and diving in the sand. After watching them run down the dune, with sand flying up behind their feet, I couldn't help myself and also ran down with abandon. My feet sank as if in snow drifts, but it was impossible to fall, as the sand was a constant cushion. At the bottom, my shoes were so full, they felt three sizes too small! At the foot of the dune, our guides had prepared a hot breakfast of bacon and eggs, so yet again we enjoyed delicious food in surreal surroundings.
Our next adventure was a trek through the desert to Dead Vlei. It would take two to three hours in the brutal heat and sun, so many opted to take the open-air, four-wheel drive shuttle. Kerry, Charlie, and I decided to hike with some of our friends. We traversed the desert sands (which now appeared yellowish-beige in the midday sun), climbed more dunes, and crossed cracked river beds, long dry from the lack of rain. The sun beat down mercilessly. Now as the sand filled our shoes, it was hot and uncomfortable, and we stopped often to dump them out. On our way, we passed Big Daddy, the world's tallest sand dune, stretching almost 1000 feet into the air. We climbed part of it, then descended into Dead Vlei. Vlei means Valley, and this is truly a barren valley. Stark black trees stand almost petrified in this old river bed where rain has not fallen in ages. We stopped in the Vlei, then quickly returned to camp to jump in the pool.
With all our tromping around, I almost forgot it was Good Friday. I've always thought Good Friday was a strange name, for it commemorates the day that Jesus died on the cross. It sure doesn't sound "good" to me, but when I think that He was dying to pay for all the things I have done in life that I'm ashamed of ... when I realize that He died so I wouldn't have to ... then I understand the "good" in Good Friday. Shoot, when you think about it, it should be called Amazing Friday or something like that. When your sins and guilt are washed away, a strong adjective is in order.
Anyway, as I was hiking in the dunes, I noticed the acacia tree's long spiky thorns all over its branches. I remembered Good Friday and thought of the crown of thorns piercing Jesus' brow. Kerry and I wanted to do something special on this day, so we decided to have a little service at our campsite. We went to the camp store and found sparkling red grape juice in a can, then went to pay for it at the cash register where a lovely Namibian woman worked. As we were leaving, I said to her, "God bless you."
She looked up and said, "Excuse me. Do you have a minute?"
"Sure," I said.
She leaned over and said in hushed tones, "Why did you say, 'God bless you'?"
I said, "Well, we love Jesus, and we're remembering him today since it's Good Friday. In fact, we bought the grape juice to have a little service at our campsite."
She beamed and said, "I love Jesus too. May He bless you with his power as you live for him today."
Wow. Not your average camp store encounter.
We gathered our friends and read from the Bible about Jesus's death on the cross, and shared how He offers new life and forgiveness of sins to all who call on Him as their Savior. Then we shared bread and juice right there under the acacia tree. Forgiveness. Freedom. Good Friday indeed.
Our day ended with a short hike through a beautiful canyon, another spectacular sunset, and roasted antelope shish kebab (Eland, specifically), stewed butternut squash, and fresh Greek salad. We played a rousing game of charades before heading off to bed. This time, the boys carefully laid out acacia pods in front of their tent to lure oryxes and springboks in the night. As it turned out, wave after wave of animals came throughout the night, but Charlie, Austin, and Sydney never woke up. In fact, while Kerry and I got up four times to watch our wild friends eat their crunchy snacks, not another person in camp woke up. Either they're very heavy sleepers, or we're just imagining things. I'm afraid we'll never know the truth.
On Easter Sunday, we were back in the port city of Walvis Bay and ventured out with some friends to find a local church. After walking about 45 minutes, we found an unassuming building and were surprised to find 40 other students, faculty, and staff from SAS there. We easily doubled the attendance of the church, and the pastor welcomed all of us "from the ship." He did a beautiful job explaining the myriad proofs for Jesus' resurrection, and I know many of us were touched.
After church, we went with a student friend to Swapokmund, a German beach town about half an hour away. The air temperatures were in the 60s, and large waves were slamming into the shore, but my kids donned their suits and jumped into the frigid waters with glee. This Miami girl was happy to watch on dry land, thank you very much.
Our last day in Namibia, we went on a catamaran to see the wildlife in Walvis Bay. Within five minutes of pushing off, a giant pink pelican landed on the boat, eager for a fish snack from our captain. He reminded me of Kevin from the movie "Up," because every time you tried to pet him, he would stick out his neck and open his huge beak in your face.
Next on board was Lippy, a large seal who also jumped on our boat for a fish snack. Lippy liked to sit on the shoes of our captain and rub his head on the captain's blue jeans. Lippy is a notorious biter, and the captain laughed as he told us, "In case you're wondering -- yes, it makes me very nervous to have Lippy so close to the crown jewels!" We proceeded out into the bay to Pelican Point, where 20-30,000 seals live. They put on quite a show, wailing and crying like a bunch of babies. Namibia has half a million seals, and each one eats 20-25 kg of fish a day. This is not lost on the fishing industry, so the Namibian government culls the seal population every year. When Sydney asked how they do that, our captain said quite cheerfully, "With a baseball bat to the heads of the babies." Ouch. No wonder the seal mommies were crying.
We rode around a large new lighthouse on the point. The old one used to be red and white, like most lighthouses, but this one was black and white. That's because the old one blended in with the red sand dunes, and ships couldn't see it in the fog. A shipwreck on the beach was case in point. The new lighthouse is also made of cast iron because the blowing sand took out all the cement on the old one. The only downside is that it has to be repainted every year. Just some of the unique challenges of maintaining a lighthouse in the desert! Our captain offered us oysters and champagne, and then we sailed back to the dock to prepare for our final adventure in Namibia.
Semester at Sea expressly forbade all the students from riding ATVs in the sand dunes. And it worked -- I'll bet only 75% of the students rode them. We, being the careful parents that we are, got ATV's for all five of us and headed into the desert. Riding on sand is incredibly fun, but a bit tricky. We learned that when going up the side of a dune, it's important to go fast. Don't put on the breaks! We learned that the hard way. We also learned that when going down a dune, it's important not to hit the breaks either ... just let the bike carry you down. Ialmost learned this the hard way. Not surprisingly, Charlie had no fear and was constantly wanting to go faster.
While I was having the time of my life, I also found myself full of emotion. The dunes are strikingly beautiful. And, like so many places in Namibia, you just have to be there to fully comprehend them. Imagine yellow, golden sand as far as the eye can sea, in mounds and mountains all around you. It's as if God took his finger and swirled it all around in a giant sandbox. Off in the distance, the sun shines on the Atlantic, and it looks like millions of diamonds sparkling on a cobalt blue canvas. The sky is a brilliant blue with cottony clouds drifting across. This, my friends, is the Namibian coast -- one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.
Now I know why Brad and Angelina came to Namibia on their honeymoon.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Mauritius and South Africa -- Two Beautiful Jewels
Mauritius
About two weeks ago we went to Mauritius, otherwise known as the Pearl of the Indian Ocean. It’s quite a pearl! Due to the shenanigans of past voyagers (according to rumors, they actually burned a hotel to the ground), we were only allowed to stay for about 5 hours, and everyone from the ship had to attend an official program in order to disembark. Fortunately, our program involved going to the beach -- a pristine, white sand beach flanked by swaying coconut palms and surrounding the most turquoise water I’ve ever seen. When Mark Twain visited Mauritius, he said that God created Heaven after creating Mauritius and He patterned the celestial paradise after the island one. Now I know why.
Because we were traveling on an official SAS program, we enjoyed being with about 60 friends from the ship -- all faculty, staff, or lifelong learners like ourselves. We played football in the water, the kids went tubing, and we all basked in the beauty of Mauritius. For lunch, a nearby food truck sold the most delicious Indian curries in a crepe-like bread with fresh salad and French fries. Others sold fresh pineapple cut before your eyes. One pick up pulled up selling homemade rum fermenting in giant glass jars. On another field program, I’m told some students were able to get drunk at a gas station stop! Our group was pretty tame, and I’m happy to report, nothing was burned to the ground, though my shoulders did get a little burned.
In the end, we returned to the ship after our short stay, amazed that we got to go to Mauritius. “Who goes to Mauritius?!” we said. Even crazier, who goes to Mauritius for five hours?!
South Africa
After sailing for a week, we pulled into Cape Town, South Africa before dawn. The outline of Table Mountain rose above the harbor in the morning light, and you could feel the excitement as we prepared to disembark.
South Africa quickly became one of our favorite countries in the world. Its stunning natural beauty, combined with the beauty of the people, the world class cuisine, and the plethora of interesting activities makes it a fabulous vacation spot. We literally waited until the very last minute to get back on the ship… we didn’t want to leave!
Words may never fully describe South Africa, but I’ll give you some highlights.
HERMANUS
After renting a car and praying before we started out (Kerry had never driven on the left side of the road before… but he did great), we drove east through some of the most beautiful landscape we’ve ever seen. With the crashing sea on our right and rocky mountains and twisting vineyards on our left, we made our way to Hermanus, a tiny village perched on cliffs above the water. It’s known as the world’s best whale-watching town, but unfortunately we weren’t there during whale season. Nevertheless, Hermanus is absolutely adorable. Even Charlie noted, “This is a charming little town.” And it is. It’s entirely walkable with outdoor cafes, markets with African crafts, and ice cream shops, all with a breathtaking view of the sea, which continually writhes and crashes against the weathered cliffs. Our little apartment overlooked the ocean, and all night long we heard the crash of the waves as we slept. The greatest sound machine ever.
After renting a car and praying before we started out (Kerry had never driven on the left side of the road before… but he did great), we drove east through some of the most beautiful landscape we’ve ever seen. With the crashing sea on our right and rocky mountains and twisting vineyards on our left, we made our way to Hermanus, a tiny village perched on cliffs above the water. It’s known as the world’s best whale-watching town, but unfortunately we weren’t there during whale season. Nevertheless, Hermanus is absolutely adorable. Even Charlie noted, “This is a charming little town.” And it is. It’s entirely walkable with outdoor cafes, markets with African crafts, and ice cream shops, all with a breathtaking view of the sea, which continually writhes and crashes against the weathered cliffs. Our little apartment overlooked the ocean, and all night long we heard the crash of the waves as we slept. The greatest sound machine ever.
SHARK DIVING
We came to Hermanus because it was close to Gaansbai, a nearby harbor and push-off point for many shark cage diving tours. Our second morning in South Africa, we woke to a dark, cloudy sky and strong waves. I worried about going out in such surf, but this was our day to shark dive, and nothing would stop us! After a generous breakfast, we all donned bright orange rain jackets and boarded the Apex Predator, our boat with Great White Shark Tours. Just getting out of the harbor was a challenge with the narrow clearance through the rocks and the high waves coming in. But after gunning it a few times to go up and over the incoming waves, our boat was speeding out to sea thanks to its four huge engines. I had Sydney and Charlie up on the top deck, and we clung to the rail to make sure we didn’t go flying off by mistake!
We came to Hermanus because it was close to Gaansbai, a nearby harbor and push-off point for many shark cage diving tours. Our second morning in South Africa, we woke to a dark, cloudy sky and strong waves. I worried about going out in such surf, but this was our day to shark dive, and nothing would stop us! After a generous breakfast, we all donned bright orange rain jackets and boarded the Apex Predator, our boat with Great White Shark Tours. Just getting out of the harbor was a challenge with the narrow clearance through the rocks and the high waves coming in. But after gunning it a few times to go up and over the incoming waves, our boat was speeding out to sea thanks to its four huge engines. I had Sydney and Charlie up on the top deck, and we clung to the rail to make sure we didn’t go flying off by mistake!
A mere 15 minutes out of the harbor, we stopped in the aqua water to check things out. The chum man at the back of the boat began stirring a mixture of fish guts, sea water, and blood… a mixture he would churn the entire time we were at sea. Every now and then, he poured some of it into the water behind the boat.
Now apparently the only sharks you see near Gaansbai are Great Whites. And the Great Whites near Gaansbai definitely know the drill, judging by the number of shark boats out in the ocean with us. Basically, this is big-time business. I couldn’t figure out how all these boats could find sharks, but I soon discovered the South African version of Field of Dreams: “If Mr. Chum Man pours his concoction into the ocean, sharks will come.” It’s pretty much like clockwork.
To lure the sharks close to the boat, a man uses half of a large fish baited on a hook and held afloat with a buoy. There is also a rubber seal decoy named Gladys, who, judging by the teeth marks, has duped many a shark. All day long, the captain, a veteran shark chaser named Brian, sits on a platform above the water, scanning for sharks and throwing out Gladys whenever one comes by. His cohort keeps throwing out the fish bait. We saw 8-10 sharks, but it was hard to tell as many kept coming back and sometimes we saw several at once.
The best viewing of the sharks is done from the boat… particularly when the captain jerks Gladys out of the water, and the sharks jump out to chomp her. Occasionally, the guy holding the fish bait isn’t fast enough, and the sharks actually get a little lunch. Frankly, I think they deserve it after putting on such a spectacular show for us all day. But even though the best seats are the dry ones on the boat, we were all thrilled to get a chance to get in the water and see these behemoths up close and personal.
First we donned wet suits, shoes and hoods. Then masks. Then a weight belt to make it easier to stay underwater. Unfortunately, our kids’ wetsuits didn’t fit quite as well, so they were much chillier in the water than we were. Then Austin couldn’t wear a weight belt at all because, according to the captain, if he did, he would drown. So Austin had a harder time going underwater than the rest of us. But he didn’t drown, so that’s nice.
Once you’re all suited up, you lower yourself into the icy water of the cage which is tied to the side of the boat. It has room for eight people. Ideally, you hold onto bars that are within the cage, but occasionally people forget and grab onto the outside bars, not advised. The cage is only partly submerged, so you keep your head above water until the captain (who is luring the shark close to the cage) yells, “Down, down, down, down, down, down!” Then you take a quick breath and go underwater. At this point you are in a silent, frigid, pale green world waiting for the shark. Depending on where the bait is, he may glide past inches from your face, thrash around biting at the fish, or shoot up from below you to leap straight out of the water. Once when Austin was in the cage, a shark came swimming right at him, his mouth wide open, and ran right into the cage. I think he thought Austin was a chicken nugget!
I expected to be scared of the sharks and possibly traumatized for life about swimming in the ocean, but instead, I was truly awestruck by these giant creatures. I found them tremendously beautiful. Their sheer size took my breath away. Their silent almost imperceptible movements in the water were fascinating. Their power made me feel small and insignificant. Like so many other experiences on this trip, I was reminded of the awesome power of the Creator, who not only made the sea, but everything in it, including the Great Whites.
CAPE OF GOOD HOPE
No trip to Cape Town is complete without visiting the very tip of the peninsula that juts out below the city. On the way down, we stopped at Simonstown, the site of Boulders Beach where African Jackass penguins roam freely. We spent an afternoon following these darling creatures, watching them waddle around, and hearing them bray like a donkey, hence their name. My favorite was to see them swim. They would do a version of the doggie paddle, leisurely paddling, paddling, then they would duck their head underwater and go into hyperdrive. They would just ZOOM all over the place, then pull their head back up and resume casual doggie paddling. When they want to, these guys can move!
A mere half an hour drive south, we reached Cape Point – the bottom of the peninsula. The day we were there, the winds were howling and gusting up to 40-50 miles per hour. I’m guessing they often do that at the southern tip of Africa. We climbed a hill to the old lighthouse for a commanding view of the crashing seas and rocky cliffs, all the while trying not to get blown off. We then hiked down to a deserted, windswept beach tucked between Cape Point and the Cape of Good Hope. I could imagine many an explorer coming upon this beach – if he could get his ship in without wrecking on the rocks, something that happened often here throughout the centuries. We leaped around the sand, with the wind howling around us, and then made our way to the Cape of Good Hope just before sunset. Thinking of Vasco de Gama, we posed for the obligatory photo, then jumped in our car to get out of the wind and to our youth hostel for the night!
The next morning, after some delectable cinnamon rolls from a nearby bakery, we drove back up the peninsula where we were rewarded with stunning vistas of Chapman’s Peak Drive, even though a fire two weeks ago charred the fynbos vegetation and left the mountainside a reddish-brown color. After a sandcastle and swim at Hout Bay, we tasted the most delicious calamari of our lives at Muriel’s Munchies. Just $3, it was the most tender, tasty lunch you can imagine! Next stop, Camps Bay Beach, where the beautiful people go, where we just stopped for an hour to get some gelato and enjoy the view.
LION'S HEAD
Finally, we headed to Lions’ Head, a cone-shaped mountain right next to Table Mountain. Sydney wasn’t feeling well, so she and Kerry stayed back while the boys and I began our trek up. It was mainly walking at first, but soon it offered challenging rock scrambles, including ladders, rungs, and chains in the mountainside. We hit “traffic” on the trail as many others were trying to get to the top before sunset. The climb was much harder than I expected, and I wasn’t sure if Austin could do it, but the kid did a super job, and kept looking up, as I advised. After about one and a half hours, we got to the top at 6:30 p.m. The entire city was below us, and we enjoyed the 360 degree view for about two minutes, then quickly began our descent to try to beat the impending nightfall. Charlie ran ahead and apparently was leaping down the mountain because perfect strangers were coming up to me reporting on his recklessness. After seeing Charlie pretend to jump, one college kid remarked, "That's when you don't want to be a mother." Welcome to my world. As we were going down, we saw Kerry and Sydney … she had revived, and they were just a few minutes behind us! In the end, we didn’t beat the darkness, but that was just as well, as watching Cape Town go from daylight to the pinks and purples of sunset, to twilight, to black night with the city lights twinkling below us, was a great joy.
Finally, we headed to Lions’ Head, a cone-shaped mountain right next to Table Mountain. Sydney wasn’t feeling well, so she and Kerry stayed back while the boys and I began our trek up. It was mainly walking at first, but soon it offered challenging rock scrambles, including ladders, rungs, and chains in the mountainside. We hit “traffic” on the trail as many others were trying to get to the top before sunset. The climb was much harder than I expected, and I wasn’t sure if Austin could do it, but the kid did a super job, and kept looking up, as I advised. After about one and a half hours, we got to the top at 6:30 p.m. The entire city was below us, and we enjoyed the 360 degree view for about two minutes, then quickly began our descent to try to beat the impending nightfall. Charlie ran ahead and apparently was leaping down the mountain because perfect strangers were coming up to me reporting on his recklessness. After seeing Charlie pretend to jump, one college kid remarked, "That's when you don't want to be a mother." Welcome to my world. As we were going down, we saw Kerry and Sydney … she had revived, and they were just a few minutes behind us! In the end, we didn’t beat the darkness, but that was just as well, as watching Cape Town go from daylight to the pinks and purples of sunset, to twilight, to black night with the city lights twinkling below us, was a great joy.
Sunday we celebrated Palm Sunday at Hillsong Church in Century City, just 15 minutes from Cape Town. We loved worshiping with people of every color and nationality, and the message was on unity, a fitting theme for our trip to South Africa. That afternoon we saw even more sharks at the aquarium and topped off the evening with a concert and picnic at the Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens at the foot of Table Mountain. This spectacular place is perfect for relaxing, strolling through the mountainside park, and hanging around with guinea fowl. These medium-sized, flightless birds -- with strange blue and red markings on their heads and beautiful black and white-spotted feathers -- run wild around the gardens. We may or may not have chased them until we were laughing hysterically and rather sick to our stomachs. Needless to say, have a look at the botanical gardens when you’re in Cape Town and bring some bread for the guinea fowl!
Our last hurrah took us back to Camps Bay Beach for one final day in paradise. It was just what the doctor ordered -- crashing, ice cold waves that left your body numb; gorgeous views of Lion’s Head; and the most delicious pizza and salad at Col Cacchio’s. A lovely way to end our time in a most beautiful country.
Monday, March 16, 2015
India!
Since India is a land of contrasts, I thought I would take you on a tour of our sensory experiences in this beautiful country.
SIGHTS
* Lush green plants like mangoes, bananas, coconut palms, and pineapples are growing everywhere. Burlap sacks are filled to the brim with cinnamon, cardamom, black pepper, and anise. Cochin, a large port city in Southern India, lies in the state of Kerala, which is known as "God's Own Country." It is so lush it seems that if Indians did nothing at all, the foliage would completely overtake their country in about 6 months.
* Brilliant green tea plantations cover the hillsides like a verdant, rolling carpet stretching as far as the eye can see. You can see every shade of green, and the colors change with the light of day. These tea plants have been there since the 1880s, when the British came to Kerala and cleared miles and miles of forests to plant their cash crop. Just 5 hours west from Cochin, the Western Ghats are a long range of low mountains, offering clear skies with a hint of alpine in the breeze. But it is the view that takes our breath away. We hike and camp for two days in Munnar, enjoying the gorgeous scenery and talking and laughing with our Semester at Sea friends as we go.
* An older woman dressed in a beautiful red sari stands in the doorway of a pale green house. The air is heavy with heat and humidity. We are in Ernakulum where a couchsurfer we have never met hosts us for the evening. Shahid is a very warm, smiling, young Muslim man who lives in a large 80-year-old house with his mother and his uncle's family. We are given a spacious room on the main level with a queen sized bed and an old wooden, carved daybed as well. The open air home with sparsely decorated rooms is designed in a square around a center foyer.
* At 5:30 a.m., we unzip our tents and make our way -- using flashlights and the light of the setting moon -- from our campsite to the top of the mountain. With grey and white clouds below us, we watch the colors of the sky fade from black to light blue to pink, as the sun makes its appearance over Munnar.
* A mini-Niagra Falls crashes over the rocks 200 feet below. It is a little more mini than usual because it's not the rainy season, but Arithapally Falls is still quite impressive. We are the only non-Indians who swim in the cool pools above the falls, and I am the only woman wearing a bathing suit. Everyone else is in saris. I feel terribly inappropriate and don't swim long. Particularly after a man comes up to ask for a photo and a "Small kiss? Small kiss?"
* While eating our chicken tikka masala at a nice restaurant, we suddenly find ourselves in pitch darkness. Power outages are common in India. Fortunately, the waiter turns on a camping light that is ready just for this purpose. The power only goes out once more during the meal.
SOUNDS
* Laughter and cheers erupt from the circle of friends sitting on folding camp chairs by the tents. We play charades and mafia and then sing songs around the campfire. Everyone sleeps well under the stars ... sort of. In the morning, Austin remarks, "There was a frog croaking all night long!" Charlie yells, "Austin! That was snoring!"
* Sitting in the cool cafe, we hear the sounds of drums and trumpets. It sounds like a marching band, and in fact, it is. We run outside to find a Communist Party parade going by. The Communist Party of India is alive and well in Kerala, and will probably win in the next election.
* "You happy, my happy." So says our tuk tuk driver, Sayno, often... and particularly whenever he wants us to go to stores where he gets a commission. We are not exactly happy, but he is relentless and tracks us like a CIA operative. He shows up after our camping trip, but we tell him we want to take the ferry instead. Then, while waiting for the boat, he shows up again and continues pushing for us to hire him. Later that night, he jumps out of the crowd at the Communist parade, and the kids are positively freaked out. They all begin mounting a "Say No to Sayno" campaign. In the end, however, he wears us down, and we spend our final day driving around Ft. Cochin with him. As we leave, Kerry gives him an exceptionally generous tip, but he merely says, "Do you have any more money?" I wouldn't be surprised to see Sayno when we dock in South Africa, chirping, "You happy, my happy."
SMELLS
* It is late -- about 9:00 p.m. -- and our stomachs are growling. The scent of spices and fresh Indian bread begin wafting through the campsite. When we finally eat, it is so dark we cannot see our food, which only adds to the symphony of flavors in each bite.
* We carry our large backpacks while strolling through the outdoor market in the heat. Smelly fish share the stage with hanging bananas and fresh okra. The fish win the most pungent award.
TASTES
* Spices in India surprise me because they are anything but their heavy-handed counterparts in the U.S. Curries are soft and creamy, with flavors that develop as you eat. Vegetarian dishes are complex and spicy, and their heat often comes in waves. But the breads transport us to other places altogether. Chewy naan, thin chapatti, and the best of all, paratta -- an Indian bread with layers of sweet dough like a croissant -- truly melts in your mouth. I don't have time to describe the biryani rice, chicken curry, chicken tikka masala, fried bananas, aloo gobi (cauliflower and potatoes), okra (called ladies' fingers), or dal. But trust me, each and every dish is delectable.
* Stopping to get food for a picnic, we can only find a Subway. I am depressed at the thought of eating Subway in India, but they serve tandoori chicken subs, which Charlie declares to be the best subs he's ever eaten! I must admit, they are quite tasty.
* We crunch into a potato chip, only to discover spice and heat in a rare, delicious combination. Lay's Magic Masala chips are coated with onion, chili, coriander, ginger, garlic, black pepper, turmeric, cumin, sugar, salt, and even mango flavoring! (I checked the ingredients.) We are hooked.
* Ice cold milk, sweetened with sugar, tastes refreshing in the heat of the evening. Shahid's precious mom, brings 5 small glasses on a tray without a word.
TOUCH
* I'll tell you when we get there, but we don't think Africa Hot has anything on India Hot. Perhaps it is the incredible humidity... or the intense equatorial sun that burns our skin... or the lack of air conditioning that our western selves are used to. Whatever it is, we find ourselves wilting and having to rehydrate and bribe our kids with sodas to keep going. Hey, whatever it takes!
* The cricket bat is heavy and awkward in Austin's hand. But he swings and swings until he makes contact with the tennis ball being pitched to him. Kerry, Charlie, and Austin all try their hand at bat, and the crowd of Indians cheer when Charlie makes a play in he outfield. Afterwards, I take a photo of the team with Charlie, and his white, blond hair and pale skin stand out in the sea of dark brown faces. A beautiful collage of color.
* The kids pull on rough, old ropes attached to massive, square-shaped Chinese fishing nets. This ancient method of fishing still takes place in India. Grizzled old men release long ropes which lower the massive, square-shaped nets into the water. Then, the men pull on the long ropes with large rocks on the end of the them, to hoist the net out of the water. Other men run out onto wooden poles and pull in the net, then scoop out the contents. Usually, they pull in some leaves, shells and a few small fish. But the birds are savvy, and they often pluck the fish out before the men can collect them! Some kind workers allow my kids to both lower the nets and then pull them back up... for a small donation, of course.
* Mosquitos fly everywhere, as there are no screens or glass on the windows at Shahid's house. We're all taking malaria pills, but we put on bug spray with 99% deet in it too. (Who knew there was such a thing?) In reality, we probably don't need the bug spray because Shahid's fan offers us hurricane-force winds for our sleeping pleasure. The kids sleep sideways together in the queen bed, and Kerry and I sleep head-to-toe to fit on the daybed. Any mosquitos who try to bite us are blown off course by the 90 mile-an-hour winds.
*Sydney and I stand in a small shop while two women drape the most luxurious silk fabric over us. I have always wanted to try on a sari. Sydney's fabric is grey and red; mine is purple with gold trim. She looks positively like a queen.
SIGHTS
* Lush green plants like mangoes, bananas, coconut palms, and pineapples are growing everywhere. Burlap sacks are filled to the brim with cinnamon, cardamom, black pepper, and anise. Cochin, a large port city in Southern India, lies in the state of Kerala, which is known as "God's Own Country." It is so lush it seems that if Indians did nothing at all, the foliage would completely overtake their country in about 6 months.
* Brilliant green tea plantations cover the hillsides like a verdant, rolling carpet stretching as far as the eye can see. You can see every shade of green, and the colors change with the light of day. These tea plants have been there since the 1880s, when the British came to Kerala and cleared miles and miles of forests to plant their cash crop. Just 5 hours west from Cochin, the Western Ghats are a long range of low mountains, offering clear skies with a hint of alpine in the breeze. But it is the view that takes our breath away. We hike and camp for two days in Munnar, enjoying the gorgeous scenery and talking and laughing with our Semester at Sea friends as we go.
* An older woman dressed in a beautiful red sari stands in the doorway of a pale green house. The air is heavy with heat and humidity. We are in Ernakulum where a couchsurfer we have never met hosts us for the evening. Shahid is a very warm, smiling, young Muslim man who lives in a large 80-year-old house with his mother and his uncle's family. We are given a spacious room on the main level with a queen sized bed and an old wooden, carved daybed as well. The open air home with sparsely decorated rooms is designed in a square around a center foyer.
* At 5:30 a.m., we unzip our tents and make our way -- using flashlights and the light of the setting moon -- from our campsite to the top of the mountain. With grey and white clouds below us, we watch the colors of the sky fade from black to light blue to pink, as the sun makes its appearance over Munnar.
* A mini-Niagra Falls crashes over the rocks 200 feet below. It is a little more mini than usual because it's not the rainy season, but Arithapally Falls is still quite impressive. We are the only non-Indians who swim in the cool pools above the falls, and I am the only woman wearing a bathing suit. Everyone else is in saris. I feel terribly inappropriate and don't swim long. Particularly after a man comes up to ask for a photo and a "Small kiss? Small kiss?"
* While eating our chicken tikka masala at a nice restaurant, we suddenly find ourselves in pitch darkness. Power outages are common in India. Fortunately, the waiter turns on a camping light that is ready just for this purpose. The power only goes out once more during the meal.
SOUNDS
* Laughter and cheers erupt from the circle of friends sitting on folding camp chairs by the tents. We play charades and mafia and then sing songs around the campfire. Everyone sleeps well under the stars ... sort of. In the morning, Austin remarks, "There was a frog croaking all night long!" Charlie yells, "Austin! That was snoring!"
* Sitting in the cool cafe, we hear the sounds of drums and trumpets. It sounds like a marching band, and in fact, it is. We run outside to find a Communist Party parade going by. The Communist Party of India is alive and well in Kerala, and will probably win in the next election.
* "You happy, my happy." So says our tuk tuk driver, Sayno, often... and particularly whenever he wants us to go to stores where he gets a commission. We are not exactly happy, but he is relentless and tracks us like a CIA operative. He shows up after our camping trip, but we tell him we want to take the ferry instead. Then, while waiting for the boat, he shows up again and continues pushing for us to hire him. Later that night, he jumps out of the crowd at the Communist parade, and the kids are positively freaked out. They all begin mounting a "Say No to Sayno" campaign. In the end, however, he wears us down, and we spend our final day driving around Ft. Cochin with him. As we leave, Kerry gives him an exceptionally generous tip, but he merely says, "Do you have any more money?" I wouldn't be surprised to see Sayno when we dock in South Africa, chirping, "You happy, my happy."
SMELLS
* It is late -- about 9:00 p.m. -- and our stomachs are growling. The scent of spices and fresh Indian bread begin wafting through the campsite. When we finally eat, it is so dark we cannot see our food, which only adds to the symphony of flavors in each bite.
* We carry our large backpacks while strolling through the outdoor market in the heat. Smelly fish share the stage with hanging bananas and fresh okra. The fish win the most pungent award.
TASTES
* Spices in India surprise me because they are anything but their heavy-handed counterparts in the U.S. Curries are soft and creamy, with flavors that develop as you eat. Vegetarian dishes are complex and spicy, and their heat often comes in waves. But the breads transport us to other places altogether. Chewy naan, thin chapatti, and the best of all, paratta -- an Indian bread with layers of sweet dough like a croissant -- truly melts in your mouth. I don't have time to describe the biryani rice, chicken curry, chicken tikka masala, fried bananas, aloo gobi (cauliflower and potatoes), okra (called ladies' fingers), or dal. But trust me, each and every dish is delectable.
* Stopping to get food for a picnic, we can only find a Subway. I am depressed at the thought of eating Subway in India, but they serve tandoori chicken subs, which Charlie declares to be the best subs he's ever eaten! I must admit, they are quite tasty.
* We crunch into a potato chip, only to discover spice and heat in a rare, delicious combination. Lay's Magic Masala chips are coated with onion, chili, coriander, ginger, garlic, black pepper, turmeric, cumin, sugar, salt, and even mango flavoring! (I checked the ingredients.) We are hooked.
* Ice cold milk, sweetened with sugar, tastes refreshing in the heat of the evening. Shahid's precious mom, brings 5 small glasses on a tray without a word.
TOUCH
* I'll tell you when we get there, but we don't think Africa Hot has anything on India Hot. Perhaps it is the incredible humidity... or the intense equatorial sun that burns our skin... or the lack of air conditioning that our western selves are used to. Whatever it is, we find ourselves wilting and having to rehydrate and bribe our kids with sodas to keep going. Hey, whatever it takes!
* The cricket bat is heavy and awkward in Austin's hand. But he swings and swings until he makes contact with the tennis ball being pitched to him. Kerry, Charlie, and Austin all try their hand at bat, and the crowd of Indians cheer when Charlie makes a play in he outfield. Afterwards, I take a photo of the team with Charlie, and his white, blond hair and pale skin stand out in the sea of dark brown faces. A beautiful collage of color.
* The kids pull on rough, old ropes attached to massive, square-shaped Chinese fishing nets. This ancient method of fishing still takes place in India. Grizzled old men release long ropes which lower the massive, square-shaped nets into the water. Then, the men pull on the long ropes with large rocks on the end of the them, to hoist the net out of the water. Other men run out onto wooden poles and pull in the net, then scoop out the contents. Usually, they pull in some leaves, shells and a few small fish. But the birds are savvy, and they often pluck the fish out before the men can collect them! Some kind workers allow my kids to both lower the nets and then pull them back up... for a small donation, of course.
* Mosquitos fly everywhere, as there are no screens or glass on the windows at Shahid's house. We're all taking malaria pills, but we put on bug spray with 99% deet in it too. (Who knew there was such a thing?) In reality, we probably don't need the bug spray because Shahid's fan offers us hurricane-force winds for our sleeping pleasure. The kids sleep sideways together in the queen bed, and Kerry and I sleep head-to-toe to fit on the daybed. Any mosquitos who try to bite us are blown off course by the 90 mile-an-hour winds.
*Sydney and I stand in a small shop while two women drape the most luxurious silk fabric over us. I have always wanted to try on a sari. Sydney's fabric is grey and red; mine is purple with gold trim. She looks positively like a queen.
Monday, March 2, 2015
Birthdays, BBQs, and Micro-Aggressions
I have received some requests for information about life on the ship, so for those who care, here is the latest from the MV Explorer.
I am surprised at how excited I am to be sailing again. Living on a ship has unlocked a new place in my soul for the sea. Something about the wide open space, the blue water, the endless sky, the colors of sunrise and sunset ... these things will forever be a part of me now. I never knew how much my heart would sing on the ocean.
Everyone on the ship is very friendly, and it feels like we know or at least recognize just about everyone now. We meet up with folks for meals, cards (Nerts), sitting by the pool, going to church, playing ping pong, or working side by side in the computer lab. It's feeling more and more like a family all the time.
Our boys are celebrating their birthdays on this voyage. Having a birthday at sea is a special event. For Austin's, we got a huge ice cream cake delivered to the Ship Kids' meeting in the afternoon, and all 22 of the children gathered around and sang to him. Then, after the cake, we all went up to the 7th deck for the Austin Knott 10th Birthday Party Ping Pong Invitational. Charlie worked out a bracket, and all the kids played until the final game which featured (not surprisingly): Austin vs. Charlie. Charlie won by a hair, but Austin didn't mind, and everyone had a great time! Charlie's birthday is March 5th, so we're getting ready for that.
After being in some exotic locales, the food on the ship seems more appealing. They serve lots of stir fries with rice, pasta with different kinds of sauce, always soup and salad, and usually cake for dessert. When they have grapes, Asian pears, or mandarin oranges, it's an exciting day! Right after Singapore, they had a BBQ night, which was truly monumental and cause for much celebration. They set up grills on the pool deck and brought buffet tables outside, laden with mac-n-cheese, fresh fruit, potato salad, and... drum roll, please... hamburgers and BBQ ribs! I have never seen the kids eat so much. The head of the dining hall told me they budget twice as much for BBQ night because people eat so much food! I'm hoping they do another one before the trip is over.
Our kids' room has become the hang-out spot for all the children on the ship. At any given time there are 8-12 kids in there, listening to the shipboard music station rather loudly, playing video games on their kindles, painting fingernails, making yarn bracelets, or prank calling the college kids. Whenever they call our room, we answer with different names like, "Captain's Desk," or "Ship Security," and often a flustered child will quickly hang up. Last week, the kids started going door-to-door and asking the college kids for candy. Sort of like trick-or-treating at sea. We didn't approve of such begging, so in Myanmar, my kids bought lollipops to sell on the ship. Charlie was up to $10 in profit when the dean of the ship found out about it and put the kibosh on his business. The Dean's Memo the next day read: "As a reminder, solicitation on the ship is prohibited, especially concerning candy and clothes." The kids have now decided to start a bartering system where they trade candy with the college kids or -- if they can get their hands on one of those jackets with pockets on the inside lapels -- they may go underground and sell on the black market. I'll keep you posted.
We're learning a lot of lingo on the ship. In academia, we've found, you sit around a lot and discuss ideas, issues, and most of all, feelings: how you feel about yourself; how you feel about others; how you feel about your identity; how you feel about how others feel about your identity, and so on. We've learned it's important that we all have safe spaces in which to discuss our feelings and have others validate them. We now often use terms like "micro-aggression," as in, "Charlie, don't give me that look -- that's a micro-aggression." In all seriousness, I heard that word for the first time in a meeting where someone up front apologized publicly to someone else. When I missed the reason, I asked Kerry and he said, "That guy asked that girl what her name was. That was a micro-aggression. Apparently, it actually was. So, if I ever fail to ask your name, know that I am just trying not to "micro-aggress you" (as my children say), and I really do validate how you feel about how I feel about how you feel.
I am surprised at how excited I am to be sailing again. Living on a ship has unlocked a new place in my soul for the sea. Something about the wide open space, the blue water, the endless sky, the colors of sunrise and sunset ... these things will forever be a part of me now. I never knew how much my heart would sing on the ocean.
Everyone on the ship is very friendly, and it feels like we know or at least recognize just about everyone now. We meet up with folks for meals, cards (Nerts), sitting by the pool, going to church, playing ping pong, or working side by side in the computer lab. It's feeling more and more like a family all the time.
Our boys are celebrating their birthdays on this voyage. Having a birthday at sea is a special event. For Austin's, we got a huge ice cream cake delivered to the Ship Kids' meeting in the afternoon, and all 22 of the children gathered around and sang to him. Then, after the cake, we all went up to the 7th deck for the Austin Knott 10th Birthday Party Ping Pong Invitational. Charlie worked out a bracket, and all the kids played until the final game which featured (not surprisingly): Austin vs. Charlie. Charlie won by a hair, but Austin didn't mind, and everyone had a great time! Charlie's birthday is March 5th, so we're getting ready for that.
After being in some exotic locales, the food on the ship seems more appealing. They serve lots of stir fries with rice, pasta with different kinds of sauce, always soup and salad, and usually cake for dessert. When they have grapes, Asian pears, or mandarin oranges, it's an exciting day! Right after Singapore, they had a BBQ night, which was truly monumental and cause for much celebration. They set up grills on the pool deck and brought buffet tables outside, laden with mac-n-cheese, fresh fruit, potato salad, and... drum roll, please... hamburgers and BBQ ribs! I have never seen the kids eat so much. The head of the dining hall told me they budget twice as much for BBQ night because people eat so much food! I'm hoping they do another one before the trip is over.
Our kids' room has become the hang-out spot for all the children on the ship. At any given time there are 8-12 kids in there, listening to the shipboard music station rather loudly, playing video games on their kindles, painting fingernails, making yarn bracelets, or prank calling the college kids. Whenever they call our room, we answer with different names like, "Captain's Desk," or "Ship Security," and often a flustered child will quickly hang up. Last week, the kids started going door-to-door and asking the college kids for candy. Sort of like trick-or-treating at sea. We didn't approve of such begging, so in Myanmar, my kids bought lollipops to sell on the ship. Charlie was up to $10 in profit when the dean of the ship found out about it and put the kibosh on his business. The Dean's Memo the next day read: "As a reminder, solicitation on the ship is prohibited, especially concerning candy and clothes." The kids have now decided to start a bartering system where they trade candy with the college kids or -- if they can get their hands on one of those jackets with pockets on the inside lapels -- they may go underground and sell on the black market. I'll keep you posted.
We're learning a lot of lingo on the ship. In academia, we've found, you sit around a lot and discuss ideas, issues, and most of all, feelings: how you feel about yourself; how you feel about others; how you feel about your identity; how you feel about how others feel about your identity, and so on. We've learned it's important that we all have safe spaces in which to discuss our feelings and have others validate them. We now often use terms like "micro-aggression," as in, "Charlie, don't give me that look -- that's a micro-aggression." In all seriousness, I heard that word for the first time in a meeting where someone up front apologized publicly to someone else. When I missed the reason, I asked Kerry and he said, "That guy asked that girl what her name was. That was a micro-aggression. Apparently, it actually was. So, if I ever fail to ask your name, know that I am just trying not to "micro-aggress you" (as my children say), and I really do validate how you feel about how I feel about how you feel.
Myanmar -- Land of Enchantment
Today we sailed down the Yangon River away from Myanmar, leaving behind a country that stole my heart. I can't wait to come back.
Myanmar (renamed Burma by the British who colonized it) is a fascinating place. After being under British control for many years, Aung San united the people and fought for independence. He was assassinated just before Myanmar was released from Britain's grasp in 1948. His daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi, continues to serve as a heroine and inspiration for freedom. Held under house arrest for some 15 years, she has only grown in popularity and prestige, and today she is free and an elegant voice for democracy in a nation that is just recently allowed free elections.
Myanmar opened its doors to the outside world less than three years ago. What a privilege to visit this nation right now in its history. Yangon (or Rangoon), the large port city where we docked, is generally underdeveloped and rather dirty. There is no McDonald's. People sell meats, fruit, clothes, and supplies outside on nearly every street in the city. Women and girls wear a beige-colored paste on their face which comes from a local plant and is supposed to help keep one cool.. They need it. It's about 95 degrees during the day, and the sun is intense.
Myanmar (renamed Burma by the British who colonized it) is a fascinating place. After being under British control for many years, Aung San united the people and fought for independence. He was assassinated just before Myanmar was released from Britain's grasp in 1948. His daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi, continues to serve as a heroine and inspiration for freedom. Held under house arrest for some 15 years, she has only grown in popularity and prestige, and today she is free and an elegant voice for democracy in a nation that is just recently allowed free elections.
Myanmar opened its doors to the outside world less than three years ago. What a privilege to visit this nation right now in its history. Yangon (or Rangoon), the large port city where we docked, is generally underdeveloped and rather dirty. There is no McDonald's. People sell meats, fruit, clothes, and supplies outside on nearly every street in the city. Women and girls wear a beige-colored paste on their face which comes from a local plant and is supposed to help keep one cool.. They need it. It's about 95 degrees during the day, and the sun is intense.
But in a place that at first blush feels uninviting, there is tremendous beauty. It is in the land... and most of all, the people. Along the streets, people cheerfully yell their greeting: "Mingalarba!" They start beaming when we return the greeting. They do not usually push us to buy their products, instead sitting quietly while we look at their wares.
At first, we couldn't figure out why the men's teeth were often red and black, but we learned that it comes from chewing betel nuts. My children found this habit gross, yet fascinating, particularly when our cab drivers would open the door at a red light and spit out a red liquid onto the street. I read an article in the local newspaper about a new campaign to educated people on the detrimental effects of betel nut chewing. The dentists must be behind it.
Our first day in Yangon was hot and sweaty. We wandered the streets for a while before visiting the reclining Buddha statue. Imagine Buddha in Vegas, and this temple is what you'd get. This is a giant, and I mean GIANT, statue housed in an open-air warehouse-like building complete with neon lights and lots of gold. Gold is a big thing in Myanmar. And if you think the reclining Buddha has a lot of gold going on, wait till you see the Shwe Dagon Pagoda, an enormous, sparkling, gold complex built high above the city and full of small golden spires surrounding one gigantic gold pagoda. We walked around the complex for a long time, taking in the sights and running into good friends from the ship. We also met a couple of monks, who asked to take pictures of our kids and ended up telling us about their life. We shared smiled and hugs across the cultures and langauge barriers. At one point, we were taking pictures when about 10 Burmese women armed with brooms came marching toward us in a line. The Broom Brigade literally swept through, only to be followed by another Broom Brigade a few steps behind! Kerry said it was like a broom zamboni.
We have learned a few good tips on this trip, and one is to find the parks in every big city. We have done this in Shanghai, Hong Kong, Singapore, and Vietnam, and it has often changed our perspective of the cities. What started off as only hot, crowded, frenetic, and polluted... turned into green, quiet, cool, and shady when we hit the parks. Yangon was no exception. Right behind the Shwe Dagon Pagoda, we stumbled upon the People's Park, a sprawling green oasis in the middle of the city. Inexplicably, there was an airplane in the park. Then we saw two swinging bridges hung up high between three trees. We all enjoyed swinging and jumping on them. Then, just as the sun was setting, we followed the sound of music to an enormous area of fountains where kids were playing in the water and couples snuggled together on park benches. It was magical.
Burmese food is an interesting blend of Asian and Indian. A typical Myanmar restaurant will have dishes prepared, then you choose what you want and they will immediately bring small bowls of different foods to your table, along with a big bowl of rice. We tried pork curry, potato curry, cooked spinach, sweet and sour chicken, spicy meatballs, naan, a chicken broth soup, and other dishes. We all liked the food and were grateful for a place to sit after a long day of sightseeing in the heat.
Our youth hostel was in a sketchy area but had a good vibe and a stellar review from Lonely Planet. When we checked in, I learned a valuable lesson: in Myanmar, don't get a room with a bathroom attached. Why not? Well, the shower is often right in the middle of the bathroom, and there is no lip or doors around it. Therefore, the water just covers the entire floor of the bathroom, and then it flows out of a hole cut in the corner of the room. It makes for a wet and slippery floor when you're done, and in the case of Kerry and the boys' room, a mold and mildew fest. I don't think their bathroom ever dried out. The bottom third of the wooden door was saturated every time someone showered, and it was covered with mildew. I saw black "something" all over the corners of the room. I could have sworn it was mold, but Kerry insisted it wasn't. Anyway, the boys didn't seem to mind this minor inconvenience, and Sydney's and my room was thankfully mold and mildew free!
But what the youth hostel lacked in bathroom hygiene, it made up for in spades with personal service! A family from our ship was also staying there, and their daughter turned 16 the second day. When she came down for breakfast, the staff of the hotel (a group of 5 darling young Burmese girls) excitedly came out, holding a beautiful birthday cake with 16 candles! They had seen her birthdate on her passport and gotten a cake the night before. One even made a lovely homemade card they all signed! I had never seen such a thoughtful expression from a hotel!
The next day, we headed to the airport for our flight to Bagan. What was supposed to take 45 minutes took almost 2 hours in the taxi! Yangon traffic is something else! Fortunately for our driver, he had lots of time to open his car door and spit his betel nut juice out onto the street. We almost missed our flight but came running into the airport just in time with our backpacks flopping on our backs. At the gate, they loaded all of us onto a bus to drive us (literally) 30 yards to a waiting plane. We were waiting to take off when they announced over the loudspeaker not to worry, but that we would return to the terminal to be more comfortable while we waited for a minor inconvenience to be corrected. "I think the minor inconvenience is that the left engine isn't working," Kerry noted after noticing that only the right propeller on the plane was turning. "Every good pilot should be able to fly with one engine," he said, but I guess they didn't think today was the day for that. After being driven 30 yards back to the terminal, we watched as a ladder was brought out and a technician armed with a wrench began working on the left propeller. About 30 minutes later, the propeller began turning, while belching out black smoke. I said to Sydney, 'We've got good news and bad news." Ultimately, they shuttled us the 30 yards back to the plane, and we took off without incident to Bagan.
Now Bagan may be the hardest place to describe on our entire adventure, but I'll try. It is a hot, dusty, plain in the middle of Myanmar. Palm trees dot the landscape, and pink, red and orange bougainvillea grows everywhere. The climate is dry like a desert, so the mornings are cool and the afternoon temperatures hover close to 100. And this is the cool season. But what Bagan is known for is Buddhist temples. Somewhere between AD 1000 and 1300, someone decided that Bagan should be the place for temples. At one point, there were 10,000 of them! Today, there are about 3,000, and they cover the countryside. The scenery is truly awesome, and if you catch it at sunrise or sunset, you are rewarded with an otherworldly view. People who wouldn't normally get up at zero dark thirty, get up before dawn in Bagan. And it's worth it every time.
The modes of transportation in this town range from taxi, to horsedrawn carts, to large open pick-up trucks, to unbelievably crowded public buses with people hanging off the back, to bicycles, to motorcycles, to our personal favorite, E-bikes. E-bikes are electric bikes, somewhat like a moped. There is a wide range of quality, as we discovered. Our hotel rented E-bikes with varying degrees of power and reliability. We later found a place down a dirt road that rented newer, more reliable bikes, which you will soon understand, was much appreciated.
Now hypothetically speaking, what if I told you we allowed our 11 and 13-year-olds to rent their own E-bikes in a developing world country? Would you think that we:
a) are the coolest parents,
b) are the worst parents ever, or
c) have lost our minds.
This is a rhetorical question; no need to email me your votes.
Well I can tell you that, hypothetically speaking, if we were to do such a thing, it would raise us to "rock star status" in our children's eyes, and quite possibly set them up for the most exciting experience of their lives. At least for Charlie, who, hypothetically speaking, might have yelled at the top of his lungs while flying 25 miles-per-hour down the road on an E-bike, "I'm going to get a motorcycle when I grow up!" And later, "When I die, I want to die on an E-bike!"
Speaking of dying, if I told you that three out of the five of us crashed our E-bikes -- when our wheels got caught in the sand... and we had to drag our daughter and her bike out of the path before two water trucks rumbled by... and I crashed only because I was videoing with my I-phone while driving, hypothetically speaking, of course -- would you think that we:
a) are reckless and irresponsible,
b) are even worse than the worst parents in the world, or
c) beat the odds and came out ahead of the game.
Again, keep your votes to yourselves.
Well, as I mentioned, our hotel had less than stellar bikes, and we discovered this the hard way. We decided to spend the first day getting the lay of the land, so after visiting temples at sunrise, we sped all the way to the farthest village north (Nyaung U) to do some shopping at the local market. There, I lost track of the others, and stood in the fish aisle -- watching flies swarming on the large fish carcasses in the mid-day heat -- waiting for the others. A local man at one of the stalls saw that I was looking for someone, and he finally got my attention and pointed, as if to say, "They went that-a-way." How did he know who they were? I guess our family stands out a little in Myanmar. Anyway, I couldn't find my clan for a long while, so he and several other Burmese began looking for Kerry and the kids for me. Finally, the first guy came running up to me and was pointing way down a little street, and sure enough, Kerry and the kids were shopping down there. The warmth of the Burmese people is amazing.
After shopping, we decided to head back toward our village (two villages away) around 1:00 p.m., which as we discovered is when the day really begins to heat up. But that wasn't a problem because we had our E-bikes, right? We started off zipping down the road, and the kids did a masterful job navigating traffic circles, busy roads, and sand on the edges of the road that made for very tricky riding. Suddenly and hypothetically speaking, Charlie got a flat tire. I dropped his key in my pocket, we left his bike by the side of the road, and then he jumped on the back with me. Then, my bike died. Incidentally, when an E-bike begins to lose its charge, it loses it fast. Just FYI. So I dropped my key in my pocket, we left my bike by the side of the road, and Sydney rode behind Charlie on his bike. I will never forget watching them ride away with Sydney screaming, "I don't trust you, Charlie! Not for a minute! I'm going to dieeeeeeee!"
We were now down to two bikes. I watched Kerry and Austin speed off on one, Sydney and Charlie on the other, and I began the rather warm, sunny walk toward our village (about 4 miles away.) Somewhere along the way, I checked my pocket, and I only had one key in it. I could have sworn I put both keys in it, but at this point, I wasn't sure of anything. So, I turned around and began retracing my steps -- in the brutal heat and sun of midday in Bagan. I retraced and retraced, then got lost, came to a deadend, backtracked, and retraced some more. Finally I saw in the distance an old couple bent over something on the side of the road. As I approached them, I said, "Have you, by chance, seen a key anywhere?" They said, "It's right here! We were just discussing whether we should pick it up or not!" Incredible. What an answer to prayer!
With key in hand (actually now safely in my backpack -- NOT my pocket), I again began the trek back to our village. About 15 minutes later, I was passing a road-side stall that looked like an information booth when out popped Sydney and Charlie! WHAT?! I asked what they were doing there, and they said that Sydney's bike had died, so Kerry left them there while he and Austin went to get help. They had been waiting 45 minutes when I arrived. Ironically, several people had asked them for directions thinking they were manning the tourist booth! I had a package of lollipops that we had bought in the market, so I suggested they try selling them in the booth. They set up their wares (just like all the other roadside booths in Myanmar), and before long two guys from France rode by on bicycles. The kids were yelling, "Lollipops for sale! Only 100 kyat!" The guys yelled back, "That's too expensive," and they began bargaining and laughing. The guys ended up pulling over, and the kids were thrilled when they got out 200 kyats for 2 lollipops. Then they asked if we had water for sale! I told them we just had a half empty bottle, which they happily shared. We invited them into the shade of our booth, and we learned they were pastry chefs from the South of France. I told them about couchsurfing and invited them to come stay with us in Washington, DC. We exchanged emails, and they said they would come see us one day. (The way things are going, I wouldn't be surprised if they're making pain au chocolat in our kitchen one day soon!) Just about this time, Kerry and Austin pulled up in a taxi to find us all eating lollipops with our French friends. Incidentally, Kerry's bike died just moments before reaching the hotel. Mental note -- don't rent E-bikes from our hotel and always buy extra lollipops.
The next day, we rented E-bikes from down the road and headed out for another adventure. This time, Kerry was behind a woman when her wallet came flying off her scooter. He pulled over to pick it up, then went flying after her to try to return it. She was too fast, however, and he came back with the wallet. She was a tourist from France, and we now had her national ID card, credit cards, and cash in various currencies. Kerry went to a nice, nearby hotel to see if she was staying there, then asked the manager to try to contact her through her credit card company and notify the police. We have been praying for her and hope she got her wallet back.
The rest of our time in Bagan was spent taking the E-bikes down tiny dirt paths to see where they led. We would stop at temples and explore hidden passageways that led to dark stairwells where we could climb up for the view. Bats squeaked and chirped on the cool dark ceilings. Back on our bikes, dry, dusty land stretched as far as the eye could see. An old woman worked out in a field, with a skinny white cow beside her. Small 13th century villages with open-air thatched roof houses were tucked in among the temples. We saw people grinding sesame seeds using a cow walking in circle and turning a wheel. Golden spires sparkled in the sunshine. Bagan truly felt like a fairy tale.
Mid-day we would return to our lovely hotel to swim in the beautiful, but surprisingly freezing cold pool. One day we ran into our good friends (including Connor, who is related to our neighbors, the Riemans!), and we invited them to join us for a swim. We all enjoyed a wonderful, relaxing afternoon.
Our last morning, we were up before 5:00 a.m. for our final sunrise adventure. If I told you, hypothetically speaking, that we rode E-bikes in the pitch black darkness without any streetlights... and Sydney forgot her glasses... and we dodged buses, cars, and pedestrians that we couldn't see until they were dangerously close... would you think we were -- oh, never mind! We returned to a temple we had visited before and while lots of people were on the first level, we were the only ones who knew about the hidden staircase that led to another level, so we climbed up higher than everyone else and watched the glowing red orb of the sun slowly rise through the dusty air of Bagan. Moments later, a dozen hot air balloons rose with it and floated effortlessly above the temples on the plain. Bagan -- I hope I can come back to see you again one day. Until then, the images of your surreal beauty will stay in my mind forever.
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