Boat & Such. . .Quick Update.

Still not feeling 100% better. I was for awhile, but then I think I overdid it, and now I'm back to being sick. It's not a stomach thing, though, which is really nice. Just a head cold and a I-want-to-sleep-all-the-time thing.

The boat has been really, really rocky lately. I think it's fun, but it's making a lot of people sick, which is a bummer. The waves a huge. I've heard that they're 12 meters. Anyone who knows me knows how bad I am at estimating sizes, numbers, spaces, etc. so don't expect me to verify the size. I'll just say that they're freakin' huge.

The weather has been a bit chilly. Definitely a inside day.

I have a history test and a speech tomorrow. I should go study and work on my speech.

. . . But I just want to sleep.

I would love to hear from you. Please e-mail (or snail mail!).

Neptune Day! (and other news)

Just finished the Neptune Day activities! Woohoo! The day started with yet another new wake up experience: people running up and down my hall yelling and banging pots and pans. Dressed like lunatics. I got fish guts stuff poured on me, jumped in a pool, kissed a fish, and got knighted. . . or dubbed or something. I'm no longer a pollywog. Or maybe now I AM a pollywog. . . I forget. But I'm higher status than I was before. Some people shaved their heads, but I opted not to. Tough decision, but I'm happy with it. I don't want to shave my head just because other people are doing it. . . Maybe on New Years.

Oh, in case I didn't mention before, Neptune Day is in celebration of crossing the equator, which we just did. Woohoo! Now, supposedly, water spins the other way. I still have to check that out.


In other news - I would love to hear from you!
E-mail me at my old address: lilac2@berkeley.edu OR at my new address ljcarpenter@semesteratsea.net
Both will get to me.

Even better if you snail mail me!!
Look here for addresses and post times:
http://www.semesteratsea.org/current-voyage/overview/staying-in-touch.php


To find out more about where I am and see pictures (not necessarily of me, but apparently some are) you can go here: http://www.semesteratsea.org/current-voyage/overview/

Seriously, I would love to hear from you all.


LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!!

I Forgot. . .

I forgot to mention that I'm feeling much better now. Now well, but much better. No longer like death, now just like sleeping.

I think I get fish guts thrown on me today.

Happy Neptune Day.

I Can't Sleep/Ghana!

I can’t sleep, and I figured since tomorrow is Neptune Day I should probably write about Ghana before I have to write about Ghana AND Neptune Day.

Ghana was really great. There were two points where I was pretty sure I was going to die, but I had a really wonderful Ghana experience.

Here we go.

DAY ONE: A group of 5 of us set out into the city of Accra: Andrew, Hayley, Alyse, Kellie, and me. We went to the Arts Center, which I thought would be something totally different than what it was. It ended up being pretty similar to the souks in Morocco, except the people here were WAY overly nice, which sucks way more than it sounds like it would. In Morocco it was easier to haggle aggressively if they were being aggressive, or to leave a shop without buying something if they were being jerks. But here they were just so . . . nice. “My sister, you are welcome here. Come look at my store, just for you. . .” On and on and on. I now understand the meaning of “kill them with kindness.” Their kindness was exhausting.

Anyways, somehow the 5 of us got separated, and Alyse and I became our own separate unit. We wandered around the Art Center some more and got some cool jewelry, gifts, and awesome little shaky ball instrument things that I’m determined to master before getting home. The guy selling them gave us like a 30-minute lesson, which was really cool. Then we had some street food (roasted plantains – delicious!) and jumped in a cab to bring us back to the center of town.

We didn’t really know what to do in town, so we ended up finding an outside café to sit at and watch the world go by. She had strawberry ice cream and I had pineapple juice. Wonderfully refreshing. While we were sitting there, some guy took a picture of us from his car. I thought that was kind of weird, but then again we were taking pictures of other people too, so I guess it’s only fair they reciprocate. Then we wandered a bit around the side streets until we ended up at a little street vendor. We were getting hungry, so we asked her if there was anywhere near by we could get some good food. Her response surprised us both: “Ya, let’s go.”

Alyse and I kind of looked at each other and then decided to follow the lady who had already grabbed her purse. We went through gates and neighborhoods until we came to a tiny little hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The woman sat down with us and asked us what we wanted. We said we trusted her choice, and she ended up ordering something that I can’t even pronounce, let alone spell. We had really great conversations with her while we were eating. She told us about Ghana and Ghanaian culture, which was awesome. She taught us our African names, which are based on the day of the week you were born. My name is Yaa, which means “Thursday born.” Apparently each name has an accompanying personality, and I like the personality she described for me. She was just a really interesting lady in general. Her name is Sarah, but it’s not pronounced how we say it in America.

When the food came, I was surprised. It was one large bowl for the three of us to share with a big ball of dough in it. Like when Dad makes pizza and there’s that ball of pizza dough in the bowl rising, it looked like that. But the dough wasn’t alone. Also in the bowl was two kinds of meat (goat & dry fish) and a broth that covered everything. It was SOUP that you’re supposed to eat with your HANDS. How do you eat soup with your hands?? Well, she showed us. And laughed at us when we failed at it. You just kind of reach in and break off a chunk, but we would string it out instead of breaking off a chunk all at once. I guess we have a ways to go in the art of hand eating, but we improved by the end of the meal.

Then Sarah showed us her beauty parlor, which was cute. There was one thing that I thought was particularly interesting. She showed us the advertisement that she was having made for her parlor and none of the pictures featured African women. They were all Caucasian-y. Is that the standard of beauty in Ghana? I hope not.

Then Alyse and I went to a Welcome Reception at a local college. It was cool, but probably not a highlight. Got to meet some local students, which was interesting.

DAY TWO: Up early, early, early to board a bus to Togome Village. When we got there, the entire village population greeted us. It was really cool, and the kids were really cute. They put on dance performances for us (so cool!!!!) and did a whole naming ceremony where we each got a bracelet and a pot with our name written on it. Like I said before, mine is Yaa. Then we got assigned to our separate host families. I got assigned to a girl who I thought was a bit older than me but turned out to only be 16.

After being assigned, we left to go get lunch at a mess hall. Lunch = fish that TOTALLY still looked like fish. I’m still not used to eating food that’s looking at me . . . but I’m getting better.

Then back to the village to spend time with our families. Some people went to work with their host parents, but my host dad worked in the morning and was done for the day. He preferred to sit and watch tv. We (We = me & Ashley, the other girl assigned to my family) sat and watched in his little hut with him and his 18 month old son for a bit, and then asked if we go play with the kids outside. He said sure.

I had brought a jump rope to give to the kids, so I broke it out and we played with it. They were really excited, and they totally showed me up, which was a bit embarrassing. I got the chance to help make food, which was cool. Although I don’t think I was much help at all. It was the most aggressive cooking that I’ve seen in my life. There was this huge bamboo stick almost as tall as me and you smash it down into a stone pot to turn pieces of cassava into mushy dough stuff. That dough stuff, I later learned, is what was in the soup I had the day before. After awhile, the dad called us in to join him in eating, and we had the same soup stuff I had eaten the day before, except this time the meat was different. There were whole fishes about the size of French fries, and you just pick them up and eat them whole. Crazy. I was pretty proud of my eating-soup-with-hands ability. And my spicy tolerance. I’m definitely improving as an eater.

Then a neighbor girl who had been hanging out with us a lot brought us down to the waterside where (to my surprise) she asked if we wanted to ride in a canoe. My response: yes!! (Ashley said no, but later wasn’t given the option of staying). So I rode in a legit canoe in a river neighboring a village in Ghana. How cool is that! It was a little nerve racking, though, because I had my camera AND my passport on me – the two things I was not willing to let get ruined. And the canoe was kind of unstable. But it stayed afloat and upright the whole time! The ride was absolutely beautiful, too!

We rode to the end of the village and then walked back to the house. On the walk back, I got to see people making canoes, pots, and fabric. They make fabric using their toes!! At one point we came across a group of people with coconuts. They split one open and handed to me, then they were dead silent as I drank it, awaiting my response. When I said, “it’s good!” they were all very excited and enthusiastic, which I thought was fun.

That night we basically had a huge party with food and dancing. The dancing is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s like the chicken dance, except cool. Don’t worry, I have videos.

Then we went to sleep. I slept on a mattress that was a maximum of two inches thick without a blanket of pillow. And let me tell you, whoever said that roosters crow at sunrise is an absolute liar. They crow all night long.


DAY THREE: Waking up in the morning was weird. I’ve woken up to a lot of different sounds in my life, but I’ve never woken up to a cacophony of roosters, goats, and yelling in a language COMPLETELY foreign to anything I’m used to. It was a pretty cool experience.

After breakfast we loaded up the bus and headed off to the tallest mountain in Ghana. None of us really knew what to expect. We didn’t know if it would be a hard hike or a leisurely stroll up a nicely paved path. It turned out to be a brutal hike practically straight up. Take your stair climber, set it on “extreme,” and then do it a whole mountain’s worth. Ya, it was like that. After ¼ of the way I was ready to turn back. My friend Brittany decided after a bit (1/8 or so) that it wasn’t for her. I saw her taking a break, but I didn’t realize until it was too late that she had decided to quit. I felt bad leaving her, but by the time I realized I couldn’t turn back to go wait with her. We weren’t allowed to hike alone in case we fell. Then my friend Makenzie said she needed a break, and I wasn’t going to be a bad friend this time, so I waited with her for awhile with 3 other girls. After pressing on a little farther, she decided that she just wasn’t a mountain climber, but encouraged us to go ahead. One girl with asthma and no inhaler decided she couldn’t go on any farther, so Julie and Makenzie stayed behind while another girl and I pressed on.

And on. And on. And on.

That mountain was freakin’ huge. And steep. And rocky.

At one point we got to a sign that said, “Don’t quit now, quitters never win. You’re 600m from the summit.” This is after we had been climbing FOREVER on what was supposed to be a 800m mountain. And we were 654m from the summit?? What?? (This was the first time in Ghana that I thought I was going to die. Not exactly at that exact moment, but pretty much during the whole ascent.) I decided that it was a typo of sorts and we pressed on. Shortly there after we arrived at a sign that said “You made it!!” Turns out the deceiving sign had meant you had TRAVELED 654m already. Someone should change that. It’s very discouraging.

Anyways, we joined the rest of the group at the top, and it was AMAZING. Panoramic view all the way around. We could see villages, mountains, a waterfall, and pretty much all of Ghana. It was really fantastic. We took lots of pictures, soaked in the view, and then headed down.

When we got down about ¾ of the way, ¼ from the bottom, we passed Brittany. She was on her way up with Tom, our adult leader. “You headed up?” I asked. “Yep. I’m going to make it to the top.” I couldn’t leave her again, so I turned around and headed up the mountain. Again.

And we made it to the top.

Still beautiful.

After our trek down, we all loaded into the bus and headed off to see the monkeys. They were awesome! We fed them bananas.

Then back on the bus to drive home.

I had been feeling increasingly sicker since the first day in Ghana. It started out as just a head cold thing, but on the bus ride home I was pretty miserable. Extremely miserable. This is the second time I thought I was going to die. I could barely move without feeling like I was going to puke everywhere or like my insides would just explode. I had to concentrate on keeping my insides inside.

Waiting outside to get onto the ship I couldn’t even stand up.

When I walked into my room, my roommate asked if I was okay and I could barely put the words together to say, “No, I feel like death.” I stood in the shower for a little bit, kind of shampooed my hair, but then gave up. Conditioner, soap, or combing out my hair was completely out of the question. I stumbled light-headedly into bed. All I wanted was a hug from my dad and for my mom to sit with me on the couch. I tried to call home, but my phone was dead. I had to be a big girl.

DAY FOUR: I woke up at 5:15am this morning to see if there was any possible way I would be able to make it to my scheduled 5:30am trip to the canopy tours and slave dungeons. After struggling to walk to the bathroom, I decided it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for me to be walking hundreds of feet up in the air, even if I was strapped in. It just wasn’t going to happen, so I went back to sleep.

A couple hours later I had ANOTHER new waking up experience. My bed was shaking. Sometimes that happens because my bed is right above the motor, so I’ve kind of gotten used to being jostled awake but then lulled back to sleep by the motor. But this shaking was different, and it was accompanied by moans coming from next door. I guess you could say my neighbor had a very good morning.

I was planning on staying in bed all day. My plans changed, though, when my roommate was involved in a miscommunication and ended up not having anyone to go into the city with. She really wanted to go, and it’s not safe to go alone, so I put on clothes and agreed to accompany her. There were a couple things I wanted anyways – art, lapel pin, and postcards.

I was very impressed with us and our efficiency. We took the shuttle into the city and from there went to Global Mamas where I got some cool gifts (Mom, be excited!). Then we walked down the main street. I guess my feeling horrible made me a better barter because I didn’t really care about being nice. Once word got out on the street (and it does!) that I was looking for paintings, people would come up to me with stacks for me to look through. I would look through and then, if I didn’t like them, I would just say I didn’t like them and move on. I ended up with two REALLY cool painting that I’m very happy with! In one shop I saw a lapel pin. I hadn’t seen a single other one in all of Ghana, so I was pleased to come across it. It was in a set with cuff links, but I didn’t want the cuff links. He wanted me to pay 5 cd, but I only wanted to pay 2. I paid 2. Obama is a HUGE deal in Ghana – almost a bigger deal than in America. Everyone wears Obama shirts, dresses, etc. He’s on billboards, cups, in windows, pretty much everywhere. A large reason is because he was recently in Ghana, but another reason is because they love him. I wanted some Obama-y to commemorate that part of Ghana. I found this one obnoxiously Obamified shirt (that I’m wearing right now) that I really liked. He wanted 30 cd for it, but I only wanted to pay 10. I paid 10.

After walking the street, we jumped in a cab and headed to the mall. Kellie was able to find all the clothes/shoes she wanted/needed pretty quickly. We stopped by a bookstore where we bought some postcards (Ghana doesn’t have very good postcards. I think that’s the general consensus). Then we stopped by Game which, surprisingly, is more similar to Target than Gamestop, and we stocked up on sodas and food. I mostly stocked up on Sprite and salteen crackers.

Then we took a taxi home.

Good day! It was a really good day. I’m glad I didn’t sit in bed all day. It was nice to get out one last time.

When we got home I looked for the stamps I had purchased for like two hours. Then I prayed. Then I found them. (Thanks God!) Then lots of post card writing.

We met for dinner at 6:00. I had split pea soup and a roll. I wanted to go to bed right after, but for some reason didn’t. Somehow it was 9:00 and then I really wanted to go to bed, but Andrew wouldn’t let me. He taught me how to play chess instead. I’m going to be good by the time I get home (Dad, Kerry, & Chris – be ready).

Then I came in my room to go to bed. Now it’s almost midnight, and I’m still not asleep. I need to go to sleep. Neptune Day tomorrow.

Night all.
Lots of love.

Happy Birthday Jazmin. 

Whale Sighting!

This morning I woke up, looked out my window, AND SAW A WHALE!
I couldn't even make words. Then my words were "looklooklooklooklook!" when my roommate came over I spilled out, "It could have been a really big dolphin, but I swear I just saw a whale."

During breakfast my eyes were glued to the window, and I think I scared the whole dining room when I pretty much screamed "oh my gosh!!" and pointed at the window. Everyone looked in time to see the splash made by a breaching whale. But it's okay they missed the jump, because seconds later it jumped again. And again. And again. Two whales (mama & baby?) took turns breaching for a good 10-15 minutes.

I'm sorry to say I didn't have my camera. But there will be more. I'm sure of it.

I really, really like Ghana so far.

Gearing Up For Ghana

I'm on my malaria pills. I'm signed up for lots of stuff. I've been mentally preparing myself for spicy food. I'm ready! I think Ghana will be really, really, really great.

 

There are two potential internships I've been looking at for next summer. One of them is in Ghana and the other is in South Africa. I'm really excited to see what Ghana is like! Supposedly everyone is really laid back and cool. Hopefully that'll be my experience.

 

What my Ghana schedule looks like:

First day: Welcome Reception

Second-Third Days: Cultural Immersion (apparently I get to see sacred monkeys, dance, and get an "African name." Sounds corny, but still fun).

Fourth Day: Kakum National Park & Elmina Castle. I really just wanted to see the castle, but they were a package deal. The park sounds fun too. I've heard rumors about a zip line. The castle is where a lot of Africa's slaves were exported from. Very historically important and I've read a lot about it.

 

Dinner time. Gotta run.

 

LOVE YOU ALL.

On The Boat

On The Boat               

 

I’ve picked out my favorite elliptical machine. Number 4, right in front of the window. So I spend from about 7-7:30 every morning exercising and looking out at the beautiful blue ocean (or in yesterday’s case – gray). Life is good.

 

I had lunch with the captain yesterday! I don’t really know how to translate that into non-ship talk in a way that carries over the magnitude of that privilege. It would be like if I happened to be touring the state capitol and some random tour guide said, “Do you want to have lunch with to governor?” That’s basically what happened. I was serving myself at the buffet line, and a waiter came up to me and said, “Do you want to have lunch at the captain’s table?” When I looked over at the captain’s table, I saw that the captain was actually AT the captain’s table. “Yes.” So I took my plate over to the table. Except for the ones occupied by Captain Jeremy and the second-in-command captain all the seats were available, and I seated myself at the one directly across from the captain. We were joined by 4 other students and 3 life long learners (old people who go on the trip for fun instead of for school). I was a really amazing opportunity.

 

And today I saw dolphins! Up until now I hadn’t had a marine life sighting. Everyone else had seen dolphins and ships and various times and until last night when I saw another boat I had seen nothing but blue. But then in class today everybody suddenly plastered themselves to the window, and I saw them! A whole bunch of dolphins just feet from the boat jumping and playing. It was SO COOL! AND we saw flying fish. I never knew what people meant when they said “flying fish,” but I get it now. The fish would jump out of the water, spread its fins/wings, and FLY for a couple feet before returning to the water. Not just up and down like how normal fish jump. The would jump up, go OVER, and then go back down into the water.

 

More news: I’m involved in a really cool Christian community that I’m super excited about. It’s called Wonderfully Made and there are about 20 of girls in it. I’m really excited to get to know them all!

 

Tomorrow is LAUNDRY DAY! I look forward to laundry day like everyone else looks forward to taco day. Hurray!

 

My classes are awesome!!!! But the homework is piling up. I’m going to go address that. . . .

Morocco!!

Morocco. Gosh, I don’t even know where to begin. It’s a bit daunting looking at a blank piece of paper (or digital representation of one) with the goal of translating the entirety of my experiences into words. I honestly don’t know where to begin, so I guess I’ll start at (duh) the beginning.

DAY ONE: I started off my Morocco visit with a lecture given by a very impressive woman about “The Evolution of Women in Islam.” Her talk covered topics like why women choose to wear or not wear the veil, women’s rights in Morocco, and other similar topics. Although the topic was one that interests me, her delivery was subpar. Every statistic added weight to my eyelids. By the end of her talk, the majority had already left the boat. Since it’s not safe for a single female to wander around Morocco unattended, I put together a group of girls from the speech who wanted to explore Casablanca. This was definitely a learning experience. There were 3 of us total. I figured that it didn’t matter if our personalities didn’t quite match up because all I wanted to do was wander the city and souks (markets). I didn’t need good conversation. Little did I know. . .

One of the girls I was with had COMPLETELY different ideas than me of what it meant to go into the city. Instead of walking leisurely, enjoyably through the souks she power walked and expected us to follow – which we did. We ended up in an area that was definitely for the locals as opposed to the tourists, which I was completely stoked about. But she kept complaining about how “lost” we were (how can you be lost when you don’t have anywhere you’re trying to go or want to be?) and how everyone/everything was dirty and disgusting. In order to appease her desire to rid herself of anything “unclean” we exited the muddy souks. I kept a positive attitude and decided that this outing was just practice for another one I would take later with people who had a mindset more similar to mine. Plus I told myself I was learning what types of people I am a good match to travel with and that this kind of information would be important for later and longer excursions. Everything is practice. We ended up at the mosque, which was absolutely beautiful. The tile work was intricate and beautiful, and the wet marble reflected the tower and columns. Picturesque to say the least. Then we took a taxi home.

I had a long, exhausting, wet day in Casablanca, so when I got home I mostly just wanted to sleep. But I also didn’t want to sleep away my time in Morocco. I decided to take a nap and then see if there were spare tickets to a welcome reception being held by a local school. If there were tickets I would go. If there weren’t tickets, I wouldn’t.

There ended up being tickets. We crammed WAY too many people into a tiny little school bus and headed off to a school where local university students waited for us. The food was delicious – soup, mint tea, and some unidentifiable (but good!) finger food. Talking with the students was a really great experience. They were really a lot of fun. At my table there were two guys who had grown up in Casablanca. I loved talking to them about . . . everything. We talked about what we do for fun, school, governments, and just normal teenage stuff. We made plans to meet up later in the week, but it didn’t end up working out. I was really bummed about that, but it was such a great experience! They were super funny.

Then I went home and went to sleep. I love sleep.

DAY TWO: Up bright and early to board the bus for Marrakesh. The bus ride was a couple hours, but I really enjoyed it. Just looking out the window and seeing the Moroccan countryside was . . . so different to what I was used to. I saw sheep with shepherds, donkeys pulling carts or carrying people, lots of red houses that looked like they were made of clay, a lot of cacti, and a lot of just nothing. When we got to Marrakesh, we went to a beautiful garden. They say that Morocco is a country of three colors: red/okra (dirt & buildings), green (plants), and blue (sky). I couldn’t agree more. The green looked so intensely green compared to the red that surrounded it. Walking into the green garden from the okra everything else was like when Dorothy walked into Oz from her black and white house. I really couldn’t believe how GREEN everything was. The first section of the garden was all cacti. Dad, you would have loved it. I’m sorry I can’t put up pictures right now, but believe me, it was amazing. I noticed one plant called the “Lilacea” which made me happy (for obvious reasons). Past the cacti were all sorts of other plants, all the same vibrant green. It was incredibly beautiful. I love gardens.

Then we went out to lunch at a restaurant called Al Barak for lunch. I was really excited by the banana tree outside – I’ve never seen bananas growing before! The meal was multi-coursed; meals in Morocco are pretty much always mulit-coursed. None of that American “put everything on your plate and eat it at once” mentality. It was a very slow, drawn out, delicious process. First course consisted of 5 dishes from which you served yourself: eggplant, beets, tomato stuff, pepper stuff, carrots, and potatoes. Delicious, absolutely delicious. Next course was chicken cooked in a tanjeene. Also amazing. Then there were oranges with cinnamon and almonds. Oranges and almonds were two of the major foods in Morocco. Almonds were in pretty much everything. If you were allergic to almonds, you would pretty much have to choose whether you wanted to die from starvation or an allergic reaction. I would vote for allergic reaction – the food is too good to pass up. Final course was a plateful of pastries that were supposedly really good but I didn’t try. The meal, like all other meals, ended with Moroccan mint tea. I absolutely LOVE the mint tea. Make sure to try it if you’re ever in Morocco.

After lunch we went and visited two palaces that were absolutely beautiful. The detail in the painted wood, tile work, and molding was inconceivable. If I worked for years on a 3”x3” square that came out half as good as what I saw, I would consider myself well accomplished and amazingly talented.

Next we went to a Moroccan herbalist/pharmacy where he showed us herbs that cure just about everything. I was really blown away by how he really did have a “cure” for any ailment you could possibly think of. He said there were over 3,000 plant varieties in the one pharmacy alone – and I believe it! Jars lined every wall filled with powders, sticks, and dried leaves in a variety of colors and textures. I ended up buying a couple things, and I’m looking forward to seeing whether or not they work.

Then we had some free time to explore Jamaa el Fna, which is the main square in Marrakesh. We went in the souks for a little bit, but our time was limited. I had just enough time to buy really cool presents for Kerry & Chris (be excited!) and accompany some friends on their shopping trips.

I didn’t rush because I knew I would be back the next day. I was determined to stay in Marrakesh, even though everyone I had asked so far had turned me down. I didn’t let that dishearten me, though. I trusted God with my plans and knew he would give me just the right travel partners. And if not, then I would go back to Casablanca and have a fun time there. It’s nice being able to trust God with issues like that; he really does make the best travel agent.

So from there we took a bus to our hotel. The hotel was very nice and pretty and a good place to relax for a bit before heading out again.

That night we went to a show called Che Ali. I absolutely loved it. We had dinner (multi-coursed, again) in a beautiful, deep red, tented dining room. During dinner people would come and perform at our table and then move on to the next one. Delicious food, good people, good conversation, and fun entertainment. And that was only the first part! For the second part of the night, we went and sat outside and watched performances by fire-eaters, belly dancers, and trick horse riders. I absolutely loved every minute of it. The fire eater wielded the fire skillfully and the horse tricksters jumped around the speeding horse the way a 10 year old jumps around a couch. Except maybe a little more gracefully. If I could ride a horse that quickly even without turning myself upside down, backwards, jumping, or doing anything crazy, I would be incredibly proud of myself.

Back on the bus I was raving about how wonderful I thought the show was, and I received some dirty glances. “Are you amused by my enthusiasm?” I asked them. “I guess you could say that” they replied. Some people didn’t share my positive feelings about the night. They thought it was
too touristy or dumb or whatever. But you know what? I AM a tourist. I know that not all Moroccans eat fire or ride around backwards on horses, but I can still enjoy watching it. And I can still enjoy a delicious meal and fun company. PLUS we all already paid for it, so the way I see it you have two options: Enjoy it or don’t. Frankly, I find it much more enjoyable to enjoy it. They may be able to take comfort in thinking they’re superior to me because their refined taste prohibits them from being susceptible to tourist traps, but I enjoyed my night.

I win.

DAY THREE: Woke up, loaded up the bus, and head out to the Atlas Mountains to visit a Berber village. The drive was – again – absolutely beautiful. Everything was either red or green. Red rocks, dirt, houses, roads, bridges. Green cacti, bushes, and shrubbery. At one point we stopped at a place with a really beautiful view of a palace and there was a guy nearby with a couple camels. Since I was determined to ride a camel in Africa (even if it was just for a moment) I paid him 20dh to let me ride his camel in a circle and take some pictures. Totally worth it (equivalent to $2.50). The camel lurched up while he was standing up, which was a very weird feeling. I’m happy I was able to stay on. Then he was so . . . stable. I can see why the camel is the animal of choice for transportation in these areas. It’s pretty sweet riding one.

Then the bus kept going. We drove deeper into the mountains and valleys, passing houses and villages on both sides. Eventually we stopped again at a place with a janky little walking bridge. Obviously I had to cross it. Three thick wires overlaid with wooden planks. Two wire railings. All kind of strung together with (you guessed it!) more wire. When I say wire, I mean half inch steel stuff, but wire just the same. I swiftly crossed back and forth over the redish brown river without a problem. Other people inched themselves on slowly only to turn back after a couple feet. You may think that I’m reckless or dumb, but it wasn’t an abandoned bridge and I wasn’t the first to go. It was the only bridge used to get to the house on the other side of the river, so we knew it was stable enough. Plus it was really fun.

Then we hiked a bit into the villages and visited a Berber home. People complained that it wasn’t authentic and that it was all a set up. I wanted to say “did you really think that the average Berber family would be able to accommodate 50 people?” Obviously that house wasn’t a perfect representation of all the other people living in the area, but I was okay with that. It was a really wonderful opportunity to get to see inside ANY Berber home, talk to the family, and see how mint tea was made. Again that choice came up: Enjoy it or don’t. I enjoyed it.

Then back on the bus and into Marrakesh where we had lunch at the same place. Delicious, again. Seriously, the Moroccans know how to cook!! By this time I had rounded up two girls who wanted to stay behind in Marrakesh with me. As we were talking over our plans during lunch, two more people decided they wanted to join. Great! Our travel group ended up consisting of Marissa, Dave, Becky, Becki, and me. The bus pulled away for Casablanca and left us standing in Marrakesh. No plans, no food, no place to sleep, no way home, in the middle of a country in Africa. We felt liberated.

Armed with only a travel guide and our backpacks, we headed into the square to find a place to sleep for the night. Our first choice was a place called Hotel CTM, which was right off the main square. There couldn’t be a better location. We walked in and asked if they could accommodate 5 people for the night – they could! After haggling the price a bit, we ended up paying 1,600dH total for a double and a triple. That’s only $20 each!

After dropping off our stuff, we headed out into the square and souks to do a bit more shopping and wandering. Our plan was to explore a bit more and then go out to eat pigeon pastilla after sundown. We didn’t want to eat before sundown because of Ramadan. After exploring and bargaining and haggling and dodging monkeys and secretly taking pictures of snake charmers we were exhausted. We rewarded ourselves with glasses of DELICIOUS fresh squeezed orange juice. When I say fresh squeezed, I don’t mean that I sign somewhere said “Fresh squeezed.” I mean that we say ever orange get squeezed into our cup. Really, really, really good.

Then we went back to the hotel for Siesta. I guess we were still on a Spanish schedule . . .

After Siesta we headed back out into the square, and it was COMPLETELY different. Food vendors had been set up in the middle, groups of people crowed around story tellers, the monkeys and monkey throwers were mostly gone, but the snake charmers remained. Let me pause and tell you about the monkey and snake people. You had to be careful to avoid them because if you walked to near them they would throw their monkey or snake on you and not take it off unless you paid them a lot of money. I heard the best tactic is to just walk away with their monkey/snake without paying; then they would have to take it off. Luckily, I never had to try that out.

The square was alive. Everyone was laughing, breathing, living together. I loved the energy. PLUS everyone was so much more friendly now that they had eaten and drank. In case I didn’t mention before, we were in Morocco during the month of Ramadan which is the month of fasting for Muslims. Nobody eats or drinks from sunrise to sunset, which makes for a very aggressive, agitated, irritable late afternoon crowd. But after sundown everything is wonderful. As we walked by people beckoned us into their shop or restaurant. One guy did a particularly good job of beckoning, starting off the conversation by asking Dave, “How many camels?” meaning either how many camels did Dave pay for us or how many camels would Dave sell us for. We he learned we were from America, he proceeded to recite a large portion of the Obama speech – pretty impressive, if you ask me. He joked and talked with us for awhile. We told him we would be back for dinner when we got hungry, but we weren’t quite hungry yet. Stand 117. We would be back.

On the outskirts of the souks we met this one kid who was trying to get us to buy stuff from his shop. We didn’t buy anything, but we stopped and talked to him for awhile. He was 13 and spoke 5 languages. He was funny, nice, charismatic, and intelligent. When we asked him what he wanted to do when he got older, he said he just wanted to stay there and work in the shop. It was really eye opening for me to see that this kid with so much potential would probably never move up in life. In America I think there’s the overarching mentality of “if you would hard you can make something of yourself,” but it’s not the same in Morocco. It’s not just about moving yourself forward; they have a lot more hurdles and walls in their way, plus they have to think about supporting the rest of their family. If that kid was in America, he could become a doctor, lawyer, fire fighter, teacher, etc. Not to say that working in a shop is a “lowly profession” or anything, I definitely don’t mean that at all. I simply mean to say that it’s important to acknowledge how many opportunities we have in America, and how it’s not the same everywhere else.

From there we returned briefly to the hotel to grab our giant water bottles then went to an orange juice stand to fill them up. Fresh squeezed again. Delicious. We wandered a bit and then returned to stand 117. He had said that he had pastilla, and we were determined to eat pigeon. Turns out, though, that he only had chicken pastilla as opposed to pigeon. So we had two options: Go try to find the restaurant that we knew had pigeon pastilla and pay 200dh each for a set menu OR Eat in the awesome square and only pay 30dh each for chicken pastilla. We chose chicken. The food was – again – delicious. Pastilla is a weird combination of crust, chicken, and almonds. It’s not like anything I’ve ever had in America, but I really enjoyed it. I’m so glad we didn’t go to the expensive place; I really loved eating in the square.

While we were eating at stand 117, a whole bunch of police officers came and surrounded the neighboring stand. We watched for a bit and then called over the guy that originally beckoned us to his stand to ask what was going on. He proceeded to tell us that each stand was allotted a certain amount of space and it was illegal for you to go out of your boundaries. Every stand sold the exact same thing purchased from the same growers/farmers at the same prices. Sometimes (although admittedly rarely) stands would call the cops on each other out of jealousy if one of them was having a particularly good night. Going out of the boundaries didn’t used to be a problem because “we used to just bribe the government,” he said. (I thought it was hilarious how blunt he was). Now under the new government that was no longer an option.

So we finished our delicious dinner and then meandered over to the snail stew vendors. This was another thing on my list of foods to try in Morocco. This stew is not like any stew you’ve ever seen before. It is a bowl of dead snails still in their shells. To eat it, you hold the snail shell in one hand and stab the snail with a toothpick to pull it out. Then close you eyes and chew. We got a small bowl and I went first, then the rest of my group followed. The vendor was completely amused by how we squealed and made fun of ourselves while we were eating it. We talked about how everyone must be looking at “the squeamish white people who can’t eat snails.” It was only when he started cracking up that we realized he spoke English. He was so amused by us that he wanted to take a picture with us to have us send to him later – which we did.

From there we wandered a bit more.

I really wanted to see a storyteller. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to understand them, but I just wanted to see it. So we joined a crowd circled around a man in the middle speaking in Arabic. The man saw me, said something, and suddenly 40 heads turned my direction to stare. Awkward. He said something and they started laughing. Then he gestured to the hat in the middle where there were a couple coins. Usually they only charge if you take pictures, and I hadn’t taken any so I didn’t feel the need to pay. But he kept talking to me and soon everyone was talking in my direction. I didn’t know what to do, so I pulled out 2dh and threw it into the hat. The whole crowd cheered. We stayed for a bit longer, and then moved onto the next circle.

The next circle was absolutely not what I expected. In the middle were two boys, each about 12 years old, with boxing gloves. The fight started after a couple minutes. They charge you if you take pictures, so I took one picture, gave a little bit of money, and then hit “record” on my camera and let it hang around my neck for the remainder of the fight. I think one of the kids was onto me, but the adults had no idea. Anyways, ask to see the fight later and I’ll show it to you. The kids were pretty impressive with the way they could punch and juke. Chris, I’d love to get your opinion on it. There was a creepy guy giving me weird looks so I inched closer and closer to Dave until we decided to move onto the next circle.

The next circle was fishing for bottles. I paid the 3dh to play – why not? I got a long stick with a string and what looked like a donut on the end, except the donut was pretty heavy. The goal was to loop the donut around one of the standing soda bottles and whatever you looped in 5 minutes you got to keep. The five of us passed the fishing pole amongst ourselves and ended up with a total of exactly zero bottles of soda. It was really, ridiculously hard – but still a lot of fun. Then we noticed the same creepy guy, so we decided to make one last loop around the square before heading back to our hotel.

While we were doing our last loop, vendors continued to yell at us and beckon us to their stall. We told them we were full, but they were relentless. I tell you, you’ve never felt so popular as when seemingly hundreds of people are simultaneously inviting you to dinner. One particular guy beckoned us to his stall, and when we told him we couldn’t possibly fit any more it developed into a conversation. He spoke pretty good English, and we soon learned that English was only one of 4 languages he spoke. Wanting to level the playing field, I asked him to teach us some Arabic. He agreed. After him talking and us repeating somewhat failed, we followed him to the table at his stall where he could write everything down for us. Soon all the workers from the stall were crowded with us around a table, speaking to us in broken English and teaching us how to speak Arabic. We learned the basic phrases (thank you, hello, etc.) and the ones they thought were essential (“Are you crazy?” “Get your hands off of me!” etc.). Apparently I have a perfect Arabic accent when I say “Are you crazy?” . . . but everything else I completely butchered. We stayed there for over an hour until the store owner kicked us out so all his workers would get back to work.

Then back to the hotel. Sleep.

In the morning we took a taxi to the train station and then a train back to Casablanca. The train window served as a peephole into the countryside of Morocco: red countryside, sheep & shepherds, houses, villages, donkeys . . . I would call it unconventionally beautiful, although some people had much less flattering words to describe it. I absolutely loved it.

Once we got back to Casablanca, we headed back to the ship for another siesta. That night I went to the union to hopefully go on “Dinner With A Moroccan Family.” They said the trip was full, but I was hopeful that they could squeeze one more in. And they could!

My group ended up going to dinner with a really nice family. The husband was Moroccan and the wife was American. They met while she was interning in Morocco and now they have a home and three beautiful kids together. I loved hearing her perspective on what it’s like being an American woman in Morocco, and it was really great to get all my questions answered by someone that kind of knew the perspective I was coming from.

The next morning I went to the Coca Cola plant, which was pretty cool. We got to see where the coke was made and all the bottles getting filled up, capped, and packaged. I felt a little bit like I was in Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. It was a really awesome experience, and something you would never be able to do in the states. I have a short video of it – I wish I could show you but the bandwidth from the ship is insufficient. Ask me some time.

On the way back from the Coca Cola plant, we had the bus drop us off a little bit early so we could spend a little bit more time in the souks. I wanted to get a tanjeene. They were absolutely everywhere in Marrakesh, so I figured I would be able to get one just as easily in Casablanca. I figured wrong. The only ones available were painted, and I didn’t want to risk led paint poisoning. Eventually I was able to find one and only one. It was only for one person, as opposed to the big family style one that I was hoping for. But I figured that it was better than nothing. It also had a small crack in it. Better than nothing, plus I could probably get it for cheaper. The storekeeper came over and I asked him how much it was. He didn’t understand English except simple numbers – not enough for me to ask if he had more or tell him I didn’t want to pay very much because of the crack. Dang it. He tried French. I don’t know French. Dang it. Then he said “Español?” Hurray! “Tú hablas español?” I asked. “Sí.” Hurray! In Spanish I was able to ask if they had more and then negotiate a price around the fact that there was a small crack. I was actually pretty impressed with myself. =-) And I ended up paying only 30dh, which is less than $5.

That was basically the end of my Morocco experience. I’m REALLY happy with it. A lot of people came away from the country with a bad taste in their mouths – the trips were too touristy, the people were too pushy, the streets were too dirty, the food was too repetitive . . . on and on and on. Plus people were angry because of how difficult it is to attain substantial amounts of alcohol in a Muslim country during Ramadan. But I had an absolutely wonderful, positive, enlightening experience. And people may think I’m not as “cool” because I actually get excited about fire eaters or maybe I’m not as “refined” because I enjoy not-so-fancy food, but I don’t really care. I had all positive experiences.

You have a choice in all situations: Enjoy it or don’t.

I really enjoyed my time in Morocco.

(I learned how to post from my e-mail, so I’ll hopefully be posting a lot more frequently from now on. Which means no more 7+ page posts. LOVE YOU ALL!!!)

Las Day In Spain

I leave Spain today. I wanted to wake up early and enjoy the cit for my last day. I like being up before the rest of the world, and that's not hard when the rest of the world starts at 1100.

I really love Spain. Everyone is so relaxed and laid back - they just do their own thing without caring about what anybody thinks. For example: The Beaches. I've spent a lot of time at the beaches, and nobody takes their body shape into account when picking out a swim suit (or deciding not to wear one. . .). I think it's great! There are these really large women walking around in suits that America demands you have a perfectly toned body for. And when I say large women, I mean like 3 of me. And everyone is BRONZE. I was by far (not even joking or exaggerating) the WHITEST person on a beach that was more densely packed than Capitola on a hot summer day.

Let me tell you about the life of someone that lives in Spain, and you can tell me what the heck America is thinking: Wake up around 10:00ish, go to work (which probably opens at 11:00), eat delicious food for lunch, go home around 2:00 and take a massive nap, go back to work around 5:00, close at 9:00, go eat a wonderful dinner, and go out 'till at least 4:00AM. Every weekend is spent at the beach.

Granted, Spain is the most unproductive European country, but the people are SO HAPPY. Nobody rushes anywhere, there is no food "to go," everyone is friendly and nice, and nobody cares about money. Americans seriously need to reevaluate their values. They keep striving for me, but what they should be doing is enjoying what they have - like the Spaniards!

And they are SERIOUS about their siesta. Everything shuts down. Trying to buy something (shirt, shoes, etc.) around 3:00pm is just as impossible as trying to buy something around 3:00am in America. There is nothing open - except for American stores that you don't really want to go to anyways.

Oh! And around midnight-1:00am there are just as many kids out as you might expect to see in the afternoon in America. Crazy.

The fashion is really interesting here. There are these pants called "drop crotch pant" that are pretty normal pants except that the crotch is anywhere from 6 inches below where is should be to just above your ankles. I thought they were hilarious and bout a (cheap) pair of shorts. Are those big in America? Or is it just over here?

Anyways, Spain has been wonderful. I'll briefly go over highlights, and then I want to go drop my computer off back at the ship because the world is starting to wake up here (It's 9:45am), and I want to be a part of it.

The Beaches! I've mentioned these already, but they really are great. I have a friend who doesn't know how to swim, so we taught her how to float! She's from Ghana and is really dark, and we thought it was funny because she was by far the darkest person on the beach and I was by far the lightest.

Food! We went to a tapas bar last night, which was great! Tapas are a kind of food where you get a little portion of lots of different things and then you all share - kind of like sushi. By "like sushi" I mean the lots-of-little-things-and-sharing part, definitely not the actual food part. And that was perfect for me because I hate deciding on food anyways, so I just got to try everything! Also, the paella has been delicious! I've gotten it with sea food both times. Last night I might have eaten sheep brain. . . or maybe fish lungs. We couldn't really figure it out.

People! I've talked about them already. Super laid back and cool.

Trees! There are some fricken' massive trees here! I like climbing them, and people look at me like I'm crazy, but I don't care. They're huge!

Flamenco Dancing! I went to a flamenco dancing show, which was a lot of fun. They move their feet so quickly! Part of the show was a bloodless bull fight thing. This little 14 year old boy with taunt and tease the bull with a cape until the bull got angry enough to charge and then the boy would juke away. It reminded me of Kerry and Chris. =-) Don't worry, it was a small bull though, so even when the bull knocked the kid down, he got right up and kept going. The kid REALLY reminded me of Chris. Chris, you'd be a good bull fighter.

Cadiz! Cadiz is the city that I'm in, and it's really nice. There are hardly any cars - everyone rides a moped or just walks everywhere. There is a GIANT cathedral that I went to church in on Sunday, which was cool. The service was in Spanish, but it was still really great to be a part of it. The roads are small and windy, barely wide enough to fit a car. Everyone has a dog. There are a million little balconies that people fill with flowers. There are random LARGE areas of free wireless all around town. And it's SUPER clean. They wash down the streets and sidewalks everyday and pick up all the trash and left overs from the night before. At 8:00 you could walk around and be like "what happened here??" (remember, the Spanish like to party), but by 10:00am it's as good as new. It's really quite lovely.

Okay, I'm going to leave my wi-fi spot and go drop off my computer.

LOVE YOU ALL!!

In Spain!

First of all: HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRIS! AND HAPPY DAY AFTER YOUR BIRTHDAY KERRY!!

Chris, I'm looking forward to being able to call you. I've been waiting ALL DAY for a time when I think you might be awake. It's almost dinner for me.

I'm in Spain. Found a place with free internet. Woohoo! Just wanted to stop in and let you guys all know what was going on. The boat is great, as I mentioned before. Spain is beautiful and warm. Everyone is friendly, and I'm able to get by with my minimal Spanish. The food is delicious.

This morning I just wandered around on my own, then I joined a tour for a bit - which I ditched out early of. Then I took a SIESTA!! One of my favorite things about Spain. Around 1600 (or 3:00pm, for those of you not on ship time), the WHOLE CITY shuts down. Absolutely nobody is around. No stores are open. It's crazy. Everyone goes home and sleeps so they can party all night. Oh! And in the morning, it was the same way. I was wandering around the city at about 0900, and there was nobody out 'till about 1030/1100ish. Crazy.

Maybe that's why everyone is so relaxed.

A lot of mopeds. A lot of cathedrals. A lot of walking.

Flamenco dancing tonight.

I love it here.

Middle of the Atlantic

Hey everyone! I’m pretty close to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Latitude: 41˚ 43.42N, Longitude: 41˚ 43.42N, Longitude: 031˚ 54.29W. I’d post a map on here to show exactly where that is, but we can’t post pictures. It takes up too much bandwidth.

I’ve had all my classes now. I really, really love them! This is going to be an amazing semester. I’ll go through them briefly . . .

Global Studies: The first of this class was pretty horrid and tedious, but today’s was really good! There are about 250 kids in this class, and we listen to guest speakers present various topics. Today it was about the oceans and the horrible stuff we’re doing to them: overfishing, pollution, changing pH, etc. All very interesting stuff. This should be a good class.

Terrorism & Insurgency: This class is going to be INTENSE. The professor gave a huge speech at the beginning of all the people that shouldn’t be in the class: weak people, morally based people, close minded people, people uncomfortable pushing boundaries, etc. I think I made a pretty good impression on him, though, because 1) I happened to have scissors in my bag, which everyone needed to open their iClicker packages, 2) My last name is “Carpenter,” which was the perfect example when he was talking about the origins of names, and 3) I went up after class to tell him how excited I am about this course. Apparently this is the hardest course on the ship (or at least one of them), so it’ll definitely be an adventure . . .

Public Speaking: This class will be a lot of FUN. My teacher is absolutely hilarious, and there is a lot of variety among us students. Our first assignment is to give a brief presentation about ourselves based on either our ancestry, an item that we have with us, or an article published on the day we were born that is interesting to us. I think I’m going to talk about my TOMS shoes . . . but I’m not quite sure yet. I’m really excited!

History of Diaspora: This class is going to be great too! My teacher makes me laugh. He has this Southern accent that I always find amusing, but he really knows what he’s talking about. Everything we’re learning is stuff that I really feel like I should know, so I think I’m in the right place. Also, I feel like coming from Berkeley I kind of have a head start, not because of the “prestige” or whatever, but because Berkeley puts a LOT of emphasis on how race and ethnicity are man-made inventions and aren’t set in stone. He’s presenting this concept like it’s new and unknown, and that’s how most the other students are receiving it. Luckily for me, though, I’ve had a year to learn about and internalize it, so I feel like that’s really helped me already.

So those are my classes. I’m really excited about them. There’s a LOT of reading though.

In other news . . .

The people here are really great. Everyone is in a let’s-meet-everyone-else kind of mood. I hope that lasts for the entirety of the trip, but I doubt it will. So I guess I better make the most of it while I can. There’s like 40 people from the University of San Diego. When people ask where I’m from, I say “California, but not San Diego.” I think that’s an important distinction. =-)

Umm . . . what else can I tell you?

The boat is a lot more cruise-y than I care to admit. There’s a spa with massages, waxing, and other expensive non-essentials. The crew clears our dishes and makes our beds . . . personally, I would rather do that stuff myself, but I guess I might as well try to enjoy it.

It’s crazy having just ocean in every direction. I haven’t been seasick at all, just wobbly. You know how at fun houses they sometimes have the floor that moves? It’s like that. It’s nice at night, though. It’s like I’m being rocked to sleep. Problem is, though, that the same “rocking to sleep” movement happens during class. Ha. I guess that’s something I’ll just have to get used to.

Good News: I’m really excited for Spain! Me and two other girls are going to Seville. Woohoo!
Bad News: My roommate has been sick, and I think I might be coming down with something. Luckily I have Airborne and all that good stuff. I should load up on it now.

I’m trying to figure out what extracurriculars I want to get involved in. There are a LOT of options . . . so that’s hard. Plus everything is really competitive. There's something called "Student Ambassadors" which is the MOST competitive, so I'm applying. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but we'll see where that goes.

I didn’t sign up for a field program I was supposed to, so we’ll see how that goes.

Umm, I think that’s all I can think of. Love you all!!!!!