Okay, so we are posting about the last five days, three at sea and two in Cape Town. As we have not posted in quite a few days and we are very tired we have posted these entries as two separate pieces, one is Heather’s and one is Megan’s. We wanted to keep everyone up to date at home, but it takes entirely too long to combine these two entries into one flowing piece. Sorry if this confuses anyone, but it has been a very long day as you will read and we want to go to bed.
Heather’s Entry:
September 23, 2005
At Sea
The weather has been getting cooler as we make our way towards Cape Town and their spring season. We can expect temperatures in the high sixties and seventies, which should be a welcome change to the stifling heat of the past two ports. I am so excited and cannot believe that we will be in South Africa in two days and then on to Kenya.
I have finished using all of my Internet time, so we are going to switch to Megan’s and hope that it lasts another month. Today was our day to go to Purser’s Square and fill out a dozen or so immigration forms and arrival/departure papers that took about an hour, as they have been herding the students in groups to the Purser’s Desk based on identification numbers all week to complete these forms. I am so glad that the majority of the paperwork is complete for our trip. The last time I remember signing my name that much was when we bought my car.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu had a reception in the Union today, which we assumed to be a meet and greet for photo opportunities and such, but as it turns out it was a question and answer session. Unfortunately we had class during the allotted time. Since it was something totally different than what I expected it is no great loss, as he will be speaking tomorrow in class. We plan to arrive two hours in advance to get the best seats in the house.
Many of the students in our Field Methods class, which met during the same time as the reception, ditched class to see the Archbishop. Professor Smyth ultimately decided that with only a couple of students present for lecture that anyone who wanted to stay was welcome and whoever wanted to leave was permitted to do so. Obviously, Megan and I were the only two, but it was a great chance to learn about Picasa, which is a photo-editing program that we have access to on the ship. It is a really great program and we learned so much. In fact, Professor Smyth was so helpful, that we figured out how to resize a picture in terms of bytes and upload it to our blog. So, finally here come the pictures! I know that everyone has been anxiously awaiting the posting of visual references to go with our adventures.
After eating dinner, Ormond came over to clear our plates, and surprise, he brought us two chocolate chip cookies each! Yum. I was so surprised, but it really made my day and they were delicious – soft and chewy. I felt so special being one of two people on the entire ship with chocolate chip cookies and not the pineapple upside down cake that was served for dessert this evening.
We decided to watch a movie tonight, however, when it was time to come on they had switched what we thought was being broadcast to something else we had no interest in seeing, so we went to bed instead.
September 24, 2005
At Sea – Good News and Bad
The good news today is that we only have one more day until South Africa. We have so many things planned, including Boulder Beach to swim with the penguins, the Kirstenbosch Gardens, Groot Constantia Wine Estate, Seal Island, Township visits, Museum visit, Table Mountain, and shopping at the V&A Waterfront. Hopefully we can fit all of that in five days.
I used my special teabag from home today, and it was definitely a welcome treat in comparison to the bland Lipton teabags on the ship. Although they do have other teas at the snack bar and pool bistro, but I plan to buy some tea in Cape Town on our arrival, which reminds me that our visit to the tea farm in Kenya is no longer, which is explained in this entry.
The wave height is almost ten feet, with predictions for choppier seas and larger waves before we arrive. The swells seem to be rising over the ship and splashing against bulkheads. Desmond Tutu spoke in Global Studies today and it was an excellent lecture from our honored guest. We took tons of pictures and movies in the hope that at least one will turn out. His laugh is infectious and just thinking about it makes me smile, not to mention that I caught it on my movie recording and hope to share it with everyone at home, which I am sure will receive just as many laughs as it did for the students present.
At the end of class, and now the bad news, Executive Dean John, had a message for the shipboard community. He was practically in tears and so were we. No Kenya. They received news last night that there is an increase in piracy and potential risks from terrorists on marine vessels with no distinction between military vessels and passenger ships. As such we are not going to stop in Kenya or any other location in Africa on the eastern coast of the country. I cannot even scratch the surface of the emotional impact this announcement had. I was looking forward to Kenya the most and now we have no idea where our fourth port will be. We will find out tomorrow, though we are assured that our stay in Cape Town and our future stop at India will remain as scheduled. Many people are thinking Madagascar or a grouping of islands that I have never heard of. I called home immediately, miscalculating the time difference; it was six in the morning at home, and almost lunchtime on the MV Explorer. I think that this country meant so much to me because Nana really wanted us to go to Kenya on a safari and a hot air balloon ride over the Mara. It really has not sunk in yet, and I don’t think it will until we learn of the alternative port and the opportunities we will have there.
We have also heard some rumors, though not confirmed, or at least speculations that we may be diverted from Myanmar. Again, this is not confirmed. We also learned of a Japanese Encephalitis outbreak in India. It will not really affect us, though Agra and Delhi are on the outskirts of the specified areas. We had to make a decision by the afternoon yesterday if we wanted to receive the vaccinations. Unfortunately having the shots does not guarantee protection. The ship needed to order the vaccine so that it would arrive in Cape Town. It is a set of three shots that are administered on a specific schedule, the first being the day we arrive in Africa. We opted not to get the vaccine because the clinic seemed to suggest that wearing long pants and long sleeves was adequate protection with the addition of bug repellant. It is transmitted by a mosquito and it costs a grand total of four hundred dollars for the regiment.
I am so disappointed that we are not going to Kenya and hope that the replacement will be at least half as grand as a safari. So the mood on the ship is definitely subdued and expectant. I cannot believe that the one place I really wanted to see with all my heart and experience every blade of grass and cloud in a hopefully cloudless blue sky, not to mention giraffes, elephants, and lions, is no longer apart of this voyage of discovery. I am not sure if I want to cry or sulk, but hope that Cape Town and the wonderful experiences awaiting us will take my mind off of this truly unexpected setback.
Tonight we have Cultural Pre-port and the Bering Sea is having a movie night in the Union afterwards, though the comedy of choice will be chosen democratically. We are going to discuss the upcoming Sea Olympics and how we are going to win, and then eat cookies and enjoy a movie.
At the Pre-port gathering I sat right next to Desmond Tutu. Not three seats, right next to the Archbishop and his wife! When the choir sang the national anthem, in four languages, he sang right along. He is so expressive and genuine. When he sat down he said, “Twins! Hello!” I don’t know what it is about him but he is so bubbly and warm and I don’t think I stopped smiling the entire time he was there. Though I am sad to report that I still don’t have a picture with him yet.
September 25, 2001
Bye Bye Kenya – Hello ?
? This seems to be the social topic of the day. Where are we going? We started out the day just like any other day, but with the constant voice in our heads saying this and that about our prospects for the fourth port of call. So the list ranges from, and some of them are really silly, Iran, Pakistan, Antarctica, Australia, Sri Lanka, Madagascar, and many others, including other countries in Africa. Of course this is all speculation. I was thinking about my voyage T-shirt that I bought at the beginning of the voyage and the fact that it is wrong because we are no longer going to Africa. I have a feeling that because it is Sunday we will not find out until tomorrow or until the last day in Cape Town.
On a more positive note…we arrive in Cape Town tomorrow, and the seas are pretty rough. Classes were great today with a lecture on the food of Africa in Global Studies, the return of our papers in Tourism, and a talk from the photographer in Field Methods with some awesome tips on taking photos and ethics. I am really impressed with the caliber of the staff; the photographer has taken pictures of September eleventh, the pope, and Hollywood’s finest. Our Travelers’ Journals professor works for the Los Angeles Times and is using this trip for some assignments on travel covering the places we are visiting. Incidentally, I received an A on my Tourism essay and I am very pleased. He actually had Megan read her essay and I think that she really nailed the assignment with descriptive prose. My topic was a tad bit more factual.
Desmond Tutu sat at the table next to us for lunch and after completing his meal we finally got a picture with him that is so cute. I have already printed it out and magnetized it to the wall.
At four o’clock Megan and I attended the last NOAA drifter deployment, which is the one thousand two hundred forty ninth drifters out of the one thousand two hundred and fifty that they plan to deploy. Desmond Tutu and Captain Jeremy had the honor of deployment, dropping the drifter off the fantail into the choppy surf. We also got some great pictures of all the action as Desmond Tutu signed the floater that has been adopted by a school in Cape Town and a school in Virginia. Incidentally, Desmond Tutu danced around the back of the deck; swing his arms, and laughing, as salty spray and intense winds rocked the ship. You had to be there, but it was great.
The weather is getting colder; somewhere in the sixties, and I have a feeling that I may be wearing some of my long-sleeved shirts in Cape Town and be forced to wear a wetsuit when swimming with the penguins. Tonight we have Pre-port Logistics and had a conversation with out Global Studies professor who went to Maryland and grew up in Baltimore. We had fun chatting about Aberdeen and Havre de Grace and how they have developed since he was last in the area. We will be saying goodbye to our honored guest tonight and hopefully there is something fantastic planned for his departure.
Desmond Tutu said some final words tonight and received some gifts from the shipboard community, including the voyage book, which was signed by all of the students. We signed on the first page! Tomorrow we arrive in Cape Town and as of yet we still have no idea where we are going next. I can’t wait to find out.
September 26, 2005
South Africa
Good morning South Africa! When we awoke this morning at six o’clock we were greeted with the beautiful landscape of Africa and the rising sun. We were pulling into the harbor and the clouds were just settling over Table Mountain, forming what the locals call the “Tablecloth,” as I assume that some giants of old are probably sitting down to breakfast at the mount. As we pulled into the waterfront the swells became quite intense. Luckily Megan had secured everything the night before, except for the hundreds of bottles in the bathroom cabinet, which was completely trashed. I stubbed my foot on the ledge in the shower, and again on my flip-flip and my empty cup on the nightstand went sliding to the floor. When we arrived for breakfast the entire contents of one table, about six plates of food, and cups were littered on the carpet. Apparently the mess came along with a rather loud clash.
Once the ship was cleared we went back to our cabin to look out the window. We have the most amazing view of the V&A Waterfront and Table Mountain. How lucky are we that the port side is facing the city? It is so beautiful with all the shops, and after about an hour of other students pushing their way off in a huge crowd, we disembarked and walked around the waterfront. This is the first place that I feel completely safe to walk around, just the two of us. There are so many restaurants within feet of the ship, and all of the shops are just as close. I had no idea that we would be right at the waterfront. We waited for about an hour in a line at the currency exchange counter as the students in front of us cashed travelers checks and used their credit or debit cards to get money. I have to say that cash is definitely the way to go when changing currency. Everything else requires a passport and extensive phone calls to credit card companies. After getting our money changed we did a little shopping for the first item we have bought in each port – postcards and stamps. Of course we found many other things, some we bought now, and some we will wait to buy, and many things with giraffes on them, which means that Megan bought them all! Ha ha ha.
After lunch on the ship we had a trip to the University of Cape Town followed by a museum to meet Gavin Younge, who wrote Art of the South African Township. It was supposed to be a fairly interesting trip to begin with though ended in disaster. We finally met the Art History professor and is incredibly nice. She would like to get the Art History majors, there are about five, together for dinner. Unfortunately this trip was originally scheduled for Thursday and then moved to Monday, which ultimately means someone messed up. If we had not checked our tickets we would have missed it. I guess that in all of the confusion they forget to check the museum hours as it was closed and we are told that we should expect some sort of a refund. All in all we felt as if we had wasted much of the day and did not really do anything of significance except stand in line at the currency exchange counter and sit on a tour bus. So we did some more shopping upon our return to the waterfront, and dad made out good. Sorry that is all I can say!
The biggest news of the day was our upcoming port of call. We are going to extend our stay in Cape Town for two days, leaving on the second of October, and heading toward Mauritius, a small island that we will arrive at on the ninth of October for three days. Whereas the weather is quite nippy here at times, the weather on the island will be in the nineties and rumor has it that there are white sandy beaches and the bluest water you have ever seen. I guess that means three days of sun, three days of sand, and three days of snorkeling. I’ll let you know about the water and if it really is as blue as they say.
September 27, 2005
Nature Tour
When we left the ship this morning there was a beautiful rainbow over Signal Hill, one of the most vibrant and bright I have ever seen. We began our Nature Tour with a ride to Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens on the other side of Table Mountain. Almost the second we arrived it started to rain, and we pulled on our jackets, rolled up our blue jeans, and secured our hoods over our heads. It was not a very intense rain, and did not last too terribly long, but the wind made it impossible to use an umbrella. It came to a halt about halfway through our tour of the grounds, which left everything in a sparkle of raindrops and the waterfalls spilling over stone paths in a stream. We took some really great pictures! The plants were beautiful, green, and exotic. They have the cutest tree that looks a little bit like a palm but much smaller that I absolutely love. The grounds are expansive and the plants various. It seemed as if we walked on forever amongst the flowers, green lawns, and stone paths strategically placed in streambeds. I have to say it was exhilarating and far more extensive than I could go into in this entry.
Our second stop was relatively close by and was the long awaited Groot Constantia Wine Estate. It is the oldest estate and manor house and we sampled four of the wines, a white, blush, red, and dessert. I would find it very difficult to say which was my favorite, probably the red or the blush, well I don’t know. They were all very good, except for the dessert. It was the color of amber and very sweet owing to the fact that it was flavored with honey. I definitely had to pucker my mouth on that one. Each time they brought around another sample, one of the two adults passengers that we sat with, one is a professor and the other is the wife of the professor we were suppose to do the snorkeling with in Kenya, would guess the ingredients of the wine. In an English accent he would say, “hazelnut, I think,” or “oh yes, very smoky that one.” It was a laugh and we got to keep our glasses that are inscribed with the crest of the estate.
Last but not least we went to Seal Island. It was about a forty-five minute trip by boat to the island and the swells were very rough. By the time we arrived at the island I was dreaming of land, and by the time that we left I was wondering if we would ever see flat land again. I have never been so afraid that a boat would flip over and I am sure I played the scene over and over in my head a thousand times. But we did make it back, and just in time, as I am sure that I was quite green in the gills and my stomach was none to happy either. Seal Island was covered in hundreds of the seals and the most striking aspect was most assuredly the horrendous stench. On our way back to the dock we spotted whales and managed to get some pictures.
Finally we returned to the ship, tired, and not feeling too hot. We downloaded our photos, about five hundred between the two of us, onto our laptops. Is that enough pictures for one day dad? I know you wanted us to take a lot! We went to dinner, had a chat with Betty and Bob and another couple and talked to Martina about safaris in South Africa. It is basically a waste of time to do one independently and also a waste to do one in South Africa. There are no elephants and no giraffes and very few animals. Betty told us that Boulder Beach was a must and that the penguins are so cute. She said, “They don’t run very fast so you can get some really good pictures.” We are going to meet a couple of the adult passengers for breakfast on Thursday and go to Table Mountain together, which is so exciting.
Tomorrow we will be traveling to a township and I am not sure what to expect. We drove past one today, and my mouth dropped open. But more on this tomorrow when I really experience the townships in full. Good night Africa, good night Cape Town, and good night everyone.
Megan’s Entry:
September 23, 2005
At Sea
Looking out the window of our room I can see rolling hills of blue water for miles and miles, or at least until the sea meets the sky. It has been downcast for a day or so now and today seems to be beginning in much the same vein.
Heather and I went to Purser’s square to get our packet of immigration forms for the remainder of the trip: 2 Kenya forms, 4 Myanmar, 2 Japan, and 2 Indian and 1 or 2 Vietnam. Anyway, it took an hour before Global Studies and an hour after Global Studies to complete.
Our class in the afternoon, Field Methods, was ended quickly when only four students made an appearance. Desmond Tutu was doing a question and answer session in the Union. Heather and I went at 2:00 but left around 2:10 for class. I know, class over Desmond Tutu, but the room was crammed like a can of sardines. His main lecture will be tomorrow and we will arrive early to get good seats.
At dinner Ormond brought Heather and I, what else, but chocolate chip cookies. We tried to hide them at our table alone so that no one would try to snag them. Yum, yum, yummy!
September 24, 2005
Desmond Tutu
After a quick breakfast, cereal, Heather and I headed to the Union around eight o’clock. Sitting in the front row, a great view, minus the students who came and sat on the floor practically on top of Archbishop Tutu with baseball caps on which I thought particularly disrespectful. We took a lot of pictures and tapped some of his speech and hopefully they will turn out descent enough in the awkward lighting of the Union.
His speech was phenomenal and my only regret, still, is not having a photo with him. His exits, apparently, have become perfected to an art form. Gracious and friendly he leaves, making a brief pause to shake a hand, smile widely, or accept some remark. No pictures, no signature on my book. But, in light of that, he is here, and I am here, and the memory is the most important. His laughter during his speech was unforgettable.
Several people in my Travelers’ Journals class have told me how wonderful my presentation has been. But, whew! I am finished…so here I come South Africa.
On a different note, After Desmond Tutu’s speech, Dean Tymitz, stuttering and frowning, almost in tears it seemed, reminded us of two things: 1) The safety of the passengers, faculty and crew was the most important, and 2) Flexibility is the buzzword for Semester at Sea. We are not going to Kenya. That’s it…not going. Still when I write it down it seems unreal, not having sunk in. WE ARE NOT GOING TO KENYA! Maybe I should say it out loud. No luck.
What hurts the most is this port meant the most to me, not only with my studies with African Art History, but with my connection to my grandmother. No more giraffes, lions, tigers or bears…okay, no bears to begin with. I will get to Kenya in my life, I know it. It feels a little like I have broken a promise, thrown a dream to the wayside. Perhaps I felt being there would be bringing me nearer to her. Before she passed away she shared stories about the Maasai and her various safaris. Perhaps I should mention, though it is only hearsay and rumor and not a fact, that there still exists a possibility that our stop in Myanmar will be diverted as well. Flexibility. I believe I am at a loss for words. But I am still happy.
We ate dinner with Bob and Betty. They sing tonight at the cultural pre-port and I cannot wait to hear the South African National Anthem in four languages. I will try to make up for the removal of Kenya on Victoria and Alfred waterfront by buying lots of pieces of art from all over Africa, not to mention spending lots and lots of money.
After cultural pre-port, the Bearing Sea, our sea, has a meeting to discuss the Sea Olympics and then a movie, to be decided democratically. AND COOKIES!!! The sea wave height was around 9-10 feet today and is definitely said to be getting more turbulent as we near the tip of Africa. We were told to secure all things in our cabins, items off exposed surfaces, everything in either drawers or the closet.
Desmond Tutu sang the national anthem along with the choir as everyone stood and I was almost moved to tears at the conclusion when he went and hugged and kissed everyone in the group. If only I could sing. He is so delightful.
One more time to lose an hour and then we are in Cape Town. Good Night.
September 25, 2005
Rocking and Rolling
Salt covers the surface of our window and as such makes it extremely difficult to sea anything. Even if the position report says it is six or seven foot waves, I know that when they took the measurement it must have been the low point of the day as the sliding across the deck and stumbling over tables has been extreme. Our nightstand drawers seem to be opening and closing of their own accord. We have a poltergeist apparently.
Here is the rundown of ports as a possibility that have been circulating among the students and also written on a paper at the Field Office. It is interesting to see some of the bizarre places people are guessing. I am a little excited to find out with so many ridiculous options: Sri Lanka, Madagascar, Seychelles, Mauritius, Antarctica, Oman, somewhere in Malaysia, Australia, Tanzania and Egypt (which can’t possibly count as they are on the east coast of Africa), and London (yeah right). You could say some people are not taking into account the position of the ship or where things are placed on the world map.
In Anthropology of Field Methods we received our papers back, my grade being an A+! I was so excited – for a brief second – before our professor asked me to read mine to the class. Great, just what I wanted, to read five pages to a class without any preparation and with no one before or after sharing theirs. I will include a posting of the paper after I reformat so that it is not double-spaced.
After finishing lunch Desmond Tutu and his wife appeared and sat at a table next to ours. We, finally, as they were leaving got a picture. While it is perhaps not the greatest photo with the awkward lighting of the dining hall, I am so glad to have finally gotten a photo.
When Anthropology of Field Methods concluded Heather and I went to the fantail of deck four for the deployment of a drifter. Our first time on the fantail of deck four and what an experience. The waves were rolling against the back of the ship, spray raining across the deck. With only about twenty people, or less, we were graced with not only Desmond Tutu and his wife, but the Captain as well. It felt like a secret meeting and I was thrilled to not have hundreds of other students around. Both the Captain and Desmond Tutu, who would drop this very special equipment into the turbulent sea, signed the drifter. NOAA is employing 1250 drifters into the ocean and this was number 1249. Nothing would have made this experience more perfect, not even if it was number 1250.
Heather and I have found our way to the Union after dinner for the pre-port logistics meeting and the farewell to our guests. We signed a book for Desmond Tutu at the Field Office desk. It will be a change to see him go, but a brief hiatus in South Africa will fill the void. I am writing my journal and drinking hot tea. Tomorrow I will open my card for South Africa.
There are so many thoughts on my mind as everyone here, I am sure, is on the same boat. SHIP!!! Hopefully soon it will all be resolved and we will be on our way. Tomorrow in Cape Town we hope to take the cable car to the top of Table Mountain and do some leisurely shopping. Watch out large boxes will soon be falling from the sky in Aberdeen shipped from Victoria and Alfred Waterfront. Perhaps not, but I do intend to shop, shop, shop.
September 26, 2005
Art & Society What?
After pre-port logistics last night we realized, thankfully, that the art and society in South Africa field directed practicum had been moved from Thursday to today at one thirty. As such we disembarked around eleven, after waiting and waiting and waiting in a line with seven hundred other people exiting the two-story gangway. We walked down the Victoria and Alfred waterfront and changed some money, which took about an hour.
So many shops, so many things to do. Everything is so colorful and comfortable, though the weather is a little chilly. The cobbled roads, palm spattered landscape, and Table Mountain make this a beautiful port. We managed to purchase postcards and stamps. This time, unlike in the previous ports, we actually purchased six different postcards. Now all we have to do is decide who gets which one. In the last two ports we have generally selected only two images.
The Field Directed Practicum was a big washout waiting to happen. We went to the University of Cape Town for a lecture with Gavin Younge. His presentation though was hardly enjoyable as it seemed he had prepared for a group of experts in the field of African art history and various ideas of identity. Even I had an extremely difficult time keeping up with his terminology and technical presentation. As one of the only two art history students and the only African art student out of ten participants, I was not terribly impressed. Sure, he is a wonderful sculptor and obviously intelligent but his presentation was geared to a more sophisticated and learned audience.
From there we left for the museum, but guess what? The museum is closed on Monday. You would think that if they changed the date of the trip they would have checked such an important detail. At least the cost of the ticket was to be out of pocket and as the museum was closed we did not loose additional money.
We went back to the pier around four o’clock, ate dinner, prepared some items for the following day and of course, spent some time discussing the most recent news. We will be staying in Cape Town for two additional days, until October 2, 2005. Then we will set a course for Mauritius, an island close to Madagascar and spend three days there from October 9th to the 11th. Supposedly the beaches are beautiful, the shopping superb, and snorkeling quite good. If only they could add a safari we could call it Kenya, as my plans in Kenya consisted of visiting beaches, snorkeling, shopping, safari and hot air balloon.
We went out to the Victoria Wharf and bought a couple things. There are so many masks and pieces of art I have studied. Heather needs a leash to keep me moving in the shops, as I tend to stop and drool at each one. My wish list would include: Chi-wara mask, Mwashamboy mask, Bwoom mask, Akua-ba, Ere Ibeji, and Kwifo mask, all of which mean absolutely nothing I am sure to anyone else.
We purchased a phone card but went to bed and set our alarm for one o’clock in the morning so we could call Mom and Dad at their seven o’clock. The time went by too quickly but I was so happy to hear their voices. It was so hard to get back to sleep after that point but I managed.
September 27, 2005
Nature Tour
Outside the ship at eight thirty in the morning and the most amazing site greets me, a rainbow. I believe we have had about six or seven rainbows so far: one in Brazil, one on Neptune’s day, and two today that I can recall. Even though the sun was shining it rained a good bit. Our first stop was Kirstenbosch Gardens. Intermittent showers interrupted the wonderful vista of indigenous plants. Never could I put into words the incredible trees, flowers, and other vegetation that is native to this region. Vista upon vista of vibrant flowers, carpeted green grass, palm trees, short trees, cacti-like trees but not cacti at all, and small winding paths. Perhaps the most interesting were the elephant lavender. Ironically, the flower smells like elephant droppings. Heather and I wore long pants and a long-sleeve tunic, but ended up putting on jackets, with hoods up, and rolling up our pants. In these costume we looked quite funny and the pictures we took are cute.
After the tour we headed to Groot Constantia, the oldest manor and vineyard. Inside we attended a wine tasting, four wines, a white, blushing, red and dessert, which were all really nice. My favorites would have to be the blushing and red. We toured the manor house and cellar. It was an enjoyable experience and the scenery was fabulous. Every landscape around Cape Town has a view of Table Mountain, thus everything is framed in its presence.
Our last stop, Hout Bay. There we boarded a boat for Seal Island. Never have I been so uncomfortable in a boat. I thought for sure we would flip over, as each large swell would send us up and teetering down with a crash. The seals were indeed a sight, however far more smelly. The best reward were the two right whales that made an appearance on our return to the marina. By this point of course I am trying to contain myself with each thump of the boat and surges that sent us pitching from side to side. All this after a wine tasting. Perhaps I should have slept on the bus? In one word, never.
Back at the ship I went to dinner, corn chowder was the soup, and talked with Betty and Bob and two other adult passengers who I am remiss in remembering their names. The two, whose name I cannot recall, are going to Table Mountain Thursday morning and asked if we were interested. We will take a taxi together and get a cable car to the top. At least one of the two things we wanted to see is assured. The other, Boulder Beach, we will have to keep inquiring if anyone else is interested. All four of them had gone to Boulder Beach today and told us it was wonderful and the penguins were adorable.
I have decided to forget a safari. There are only two options for such a trip. The first is to fly to Johannesburg and go to Kruger National Park. Look at a map, please, it is not something I would do individually. It is expensive and there are too many things to take into account. Option two is a private game drive about two hours away but the only animals are rhino, antelope, eland, and zebra. No elephants and no giraffes. This does not sound like a safari to me. There is plenty of wonderful things to do in Cape Town, even right here on the waterfront.
I am exhausted and ready for bed. Tomorrow we visit several townships under the guidance of the Amy Biehl Foundation and I am sure it will be a long day.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Friday, September 23, 2005
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Shaved Heads - At Last
Please be sure to check “Bye Bye Brazil” underneath this entry, as well as any other journals from our stay in Salvador. As we posted everyday in port, there are quite a few new entries if you have not checked regularly. Our recommendation for someone on a tight time schedule is “A Very Special Day” and “Shaved Heads – At Last”.
September 18, 2005
At Sea
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
“So tell everybody I’m on my way, new friends and new places to see. Blue skies ahead, yes I’m on my way, and there is no place that I would rather be.” Yes, we are at sea again and it is beautiful. If the sunset last night was not good enough like a tequila sunrise melting into the blueness of night, than today knows no equal. The sea is so blue and so still. I don’t think I have ever seen it like this before. As we move farther into the Atlantic the water has taken on an almost quicksilver like finish, the slate gray clouds closing in on top like a ceiling of fluffy whipped cream compressing the sea and the sky.
Megan writes, “The sea is so calm and flat I am not even sure we are moving towards South Africa and crossing the oceanic void in front of us. I had breakfast, in which I am enjoying a bowl of cereal – Rice Krispies, Special K or Raisin Bran has been the selection the last couple of days. I have switched to toasting English muffins and normally a fried egg or cheese omelet or two sausage links or breakfast ham. I have also been eating a lot of green apples and would not call it a full day until I have had at least one.”
Today in Global Studies I sat, three, yes, three seats to the left of Archbishop Desmund Tutu. Three, count them…one, two, three, and there he sat, smiling and laughing in a gray Semester at Sea polo, the rest of us smiling and laughing with him. In fact, when the Dean introduced him, the students in the Union stood up, clapping enthusiastically at the arrival of our honored guest. I could have cried, waiting for something like this for so long and then it is here, and we were all applauding as if we had known him forever. Of course, the biggest question of the hour was how he would integrate with the students. But just as if he had never left the ship and had been here all along he waited in line for lunch and sat down to a full table of students. How amazing. Did I mention that I sat three seats to his left?
Megan writes, “In Global Studies I sat four seats away, in the same row, as Archbishop Desmond Tutu. I am not sure anyone was able to pay attention to the lecture. He stood when Dean Tymitz introduced him and we all stood and clapped for what seemed like an eternity. I am sure my face was flushed and reddened from the excitement. It is so thrilling to have him on board. He was in the dining hall eating with four students at lunch, and I am bewildered by the generous and receptive nature he has shown everyone this far. I guess I never expected him to mingle and socialize in such an ordinary routine. Perhaps I am one of many placing him on a pedestal too high so that he seems inaccessible. Students walking by him as he sat in the Union for Global Studies did not even realize it was him, one girl practically climbing over him to get to an empty chair in my row. When we told her he was a couple chairs down she laughed and said, ‘Should I go apologize to him for sticking my ass in his face?’”
I miss Brazil already, but the routine of classes has begun again and we have had the honor of listening to our other pre-port lecturer in Anthropology Tourism. It occurs to me that because I have left out all mention of the treats I bought in Brazil, that I have also censored myself from writing about the wonderful adventures that correspond to them, of which this is something I will definitely resolve in my future journals, though, once again, they will be void from the online portion.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
I am assuredly lulled into a false sense of security with the smoothness of the waves and mostly likely tomorrow we will be rocking and rolling across the Atlantic ocean. Signs were hung announcing laundry day and Heather and I managed to pack all of our dirty apparel into one bag. We labeled the white plastic carrier with a pink sharpie, trying to be original and Heather drew a smiley face and wrote thank you. Perhaps we will get our clothes back tomorrow.
Heather writes, “We advanced our clocks one hour tonight and I am told that there will be five more such advancements before our arrival in Cape Town. So, with no further adieu, goodnight, until next time.”
September 19, 2005
At Sea – Rocking and Rolling as Ormond Says
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
It has finally hit. I don’t know whether it is a result of my laxness yesterday in using any of the plethora of seasickness measures I bought with me, but after Global Studies this morning I crashed on the bed and forced down some Dramamine, while ripping out the sea-bands and positioning them on my wrists. We have swells of between six and seven feet, and though we have experienced this height before, the waves are hitting the ship in a different direction and my stomach would completely agree. I did not think that I would be able to eat lunch, but felt as if I should try to eat something. The ship has delicious bread and rolls so I choose a slice of white bread and thought to myself that a bowl of soup would be nice. What a surprise when I discovered it was split pea soup, a traditional South African dish, and consequently it was exactly what the doctor ordered. I felt infinitely better and ready to take on the rest of the day.
Megan writes, “Yes, the inevitable, the direction of the ship has made it nearly impossible to avoid the pitching of breakers against the hull. The six and half feet waves feel incredibly high as small objects, hair claws and pens, fall off their tables onto the carpeted floor. In addition, three of the bon-voyage cards have fallen over in their alcove and several drawers on the nightstand and underneath the television peek open to reveal their organized innards. Just now, as I am writing this, a can of shaving cream has fallen from the shower rack and is rolling noisily across the tile flooring of the bathroom. I will have to secure everything tonight before going to sleep. Does this mean tape? Perhaps not yet.”
We put our cards out from Mom on our nightstand to open in a couple of days, and found it interesting that they do not say to open halfway between Brazil and South Africa, just between the two. So I said it felt like the card was not square, which led from one thing to another, and that the little orange blob showing through the white envelope was probably fish. Needless to say we opened them and found a very cute card depicting a fishbowl. On a side note, Mom, they cannot be Pontus and P2 because they are in the same dish and that means that pretty soon there will only be one fish swimming around the clear surface and one sunk at the bottom – if you get the drift. Anyway, it brightened our day, especially with the minor spell of seasickness. We cannot wait to use our tea, as they only have the bland Lipton brand upstairs.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
Our laundry has returned, it seemed the pink decorations worked miraculously. Even the enormous amount of ironing was hung on the doorknob. I officially believe that we are the only cabin to have received the ironing back as well with our laundry.
Heather writes, “Again, we were honored by the presence of our interport lecturer in Travelers’ Journals and a discussion on the sights of South Africa. I am getting more and more excited and cannot wait to hear Desmund Tutu speak and our imminent arrival in our third port.”
We have magnetized our blackout curtain over the window, as the rolling breakers and plunging patterns of the ship seem to interrupt the darkness with flashes of light from the whitecaps of waves rebounding off of the hull. Thus far it has worked in keeping down the blind. We turned our clocks forward last night and will do so again tonight. Five hours in all will be our goal. How will I ever call home with such a distinct difference?
Tomorrow is Neptune day and I am not even sure what festivities will be available as nothing has really be said about the event. Perhaps the undulation of waves is the announcement of King Neptune to all pollywogs to prepare for initiation. Without much at sea, except classes on the weekend and a daily routine established, I feel as if weeks has elapsed since our stay in Brazil.
Heather writes, “We took an unexpected nap before dinner, and once again we will advance our clocks one hour, putting us a grand total of three hours ahead of our friends and family at home. We do not have class tomorrow because it is Neptune’s Day and I have no idea what to expect, hopefully good food, and maybe some chocolate chip cookies!”
How awkward was it to have class on Sunday? I checked my email and blog several times thinking everyone at home is off because it is the weekend; no emails from the home campus because no one is in the offices.
Heather writes, “Before going to sleep I worked on some study guides for Global Studies and a little writing on my next Tourism essay due sometime in October.”
I am tired and have to turn my clock forward again. Thinking of home and everyone there. Shannon and Ashley’s comments on the blog made me smile on such a chaotic day at sea when everyone looks as if they are either dancing a bizarre routine together, left and then right again and again, or we have all had too much to drink.
September 20, 2005
Shaved Heads – At Last
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
Okay, so I had you going there for a minute, right? No, no shaved heads here. Captain Neptune has prepared quite a show for us with ten-foot waves. Ironically, they feel like less than yesterday, though that is not the case.
Heather writes, “Megan and I awoke at six o’clock this morning regardless of the fact that we had no class today. We were upstairs eating breakfast, a bowl of cereal, English muffin and link of sausage, when the rumors started flying. What was happening down below? Apparently King Neptune’s men were awaking the pollywogs with horns and drums and knocking on doors. Boy am I ever glad that I was awake and dressed! So a steady stream flowed into the Garden Lounge for breakfast looking as if they had just rolled out of bed, and was none to pleased about it.”
On our way from breakfast, Desmond Tutu, yes, Archbishop Desmond Tutu stopped Heather and I to ask if we were twins. He and his wife were on their way to breakfast and of course, I just had to mention this. Unsure of the festivities for the day, we sat in the Piano Lounge for a while, then back to the Garden Lounge for hot tea. Apparently everyone was awoken to loud drumming and the marching of King Neptune and his followers. Luckily I was already up as I hear many students were not overly thrilled about the wake-up call. By the way, did I mention Desmond Tutu asked if Heather and I were twins?
Heather writes, “We made our way back to our cabin, when who should we run into, but none other than Desmund Tutu. How exciting. We had a little chat with him and his wife, before deciding that we would return to the Garden Lounge for a cup of tea. I meet Desmund Tutu today, and he asked if we were twins. How cool is that?”
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
On our second trip back to our room we heard the faintest of drumming, getting gradually louder as King Neptune, his Queen and loyal servants of the sea made their way to the pool deck for a day of festivities. We followed them up to the cheers of “pollywogs” and ridiculous costumes parading around the pool, some of the crew masquerading in pointed foil caps with white sheets wrapped around their shoulders like capes. The King was Captain Jeremy, absolutely resplendent in bright green paint and wig. Where else can an honorable Captain be coerced into the garb of a mythological god? Only on Semester at Sea apparently. Then it was time to recite the official oath and get underway with the transformation from pollywogs to shellbacks, no matter how gross, with goo and grime. Megan and I watched the celebration from the side of the pool as pitchers of what smelled like fish guts were poured over the student’s heads and they splashed into the communal bathtub to wash the grits out of their hair. It was so gross to see the crystal clear water of the pool as it turned to a cloudy mush, and the smell was much worse. Finally we could take it no longer and returned to our cabin. I felt really down because of this ritual and an overwhelming sense of guilt that I was too chicken to become a shellback. I think that we sat in our cabin for about fifteen minutes when suddenly we both decided it was not worth it to regret something so trivial as having fish rot poured over your head. So we threw on our suits and CMBP shorts and ran back up to the pool deck, praying that we were not to late. We made it just in time, and shared a pitcher between the two of us, as the ringleader, our Executive Dean, announced the presence of the twins at last. It was so gross, but at least I can say that we are no longer pollywogs. On a side note, it was not exactly fish guts, but a mixture of probably vinegar and oatmeal, as the fish would make it quite difficult to clean the pool and would be tremendously unhygienic.
Megan writes, “There was an enormous beautiful rainbow over the stern of the ship this morning. With my camera stashed in my purse, I took a couple photos before it vanished. Perhaps King Neptune’s arrival coincided with the appearance of the rainbow. Up on deck seven, near the pool, all pollywogs were initiated, or at least those brave enough.”
Hooray for the shellbacks. I still have my hair, thankfully, though many students decided to shave their heads. I probably washed my hair at least five times and scrubbed my body, but in the end I am glad that I did it, and very pleased with the few pictures that someone took for us on our camera.
Megan writes, “The process was fairly simple, and to some extent, rather official as those initiated had their identification number written down. I am not exactly sure as to the purpose, but I am sure that will eventually be made clear. King Neptune, of course, was the captain painted in green. His followers, the drummers, fish ladies and queen were all wrapped in white sheets with glittering decorations. I thought we weren’t allowed to take sheets out of our cabin? Hmmm. Heather and I didn’t want to contribute such falsehoods to our online journal as: yes, we are no longer pollywogs. As such, we were initiated by the pouring of smelly liquid, supposedly vinegar and oatmeal pieces, but still reeking of disgusting fish, then a jump into the cloudy pool, kissing a fish, and bowing before King Neptune himself. I can now shout, “I AM A SHELLBACK!” I am not feigning such a feat, for I am no longer a pollywog.”
We relaxed for the remainder of the day, doing some work for Global Studies and a paper that is due in Anthropology Tourism at some point in October since I have the first essay completed already.
There are five more days until South Africa and it seems as if everything is flying by.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
The rest of the day I have relaxed and worked some, on and off. Doing some more preparation for my next Global Studies exam and writing my second paper for Anthropology of Tourism.
We went up to the pool bar to get some more water and treated ourselves to our first sodas in twenty-five days. It feels like Survivor where you get that one-bite-of-chip-one-sip-of-soda-deal and then you are without such luxuries again. Of course, not having had soda for so long, the carbonation did not seem too thrilled in my stomach, as I soon felt a little empty.
As for the remainder of the evening, after dinner I will post on the blog and do some writing. Sleep tight…
September 18, 2005
At Sea
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
“So tell everybody I’m on my way, new friends and new places to see. Blue skies ahead, yes I’m on my way, and there is no place that I would rather be.” Yes, we are at sea again and it is beautiful. If the sunset last night was not good enough like a tequila sunrise melting into the blueness of night, than today knows no equal. The sea is so blue and so still. I don’t think I have ever seen it like this before. As we move farther into the Atlantic the water has taken on an almost quicksilver like finish, the slate gray clouds closing in on top like a ceiling of fluffy whipped cream compressing the sea and the sky.
Megan writes, “The sea is so calm and flat I am not even sure we are moving towards South Africa and crossing the oceanic void in front of us. I had breakfast, in which I am enjoying a bowl of cereal – Rice Krispies, Special K or Raisin Bran has been the selection the last couple of days. I have switched to toasting English muffins and normally a fried egg or cheese omelet or two sausage links or breakfast ham. I have also been eating a lot of green apples and would not call it a full day until I have had at least one.”
Today in Global Studies I sat, three, yes, three seats to the left of Archbishop Desmund Tutu. Three, count them…one, two, three, and there he sat, smiling and laughing in a gray Semester at Sea polo, the rest of us smiling and laughing with him. In fact, when the Dean introduced him, the students in the Union stood up, clapping enthusiastically at the arrival of our honored guest. I could have cried, waiting for something like this for so long and then it is here, and we were all applauding as if we had known him forever. Of course, the biggest question of the hour was how he would integrate with the students. But just as if he had never left the ship and had been here all along he waited in line for lunch and sat down to a full table of students. How amazing. Did I mention that I sat three seats to his left?
Megan writes, “In Global Studies I sat four seats away, in the same row, as Archbishop Desmond Tutu. I am not sure anyone was able to pay attention to the lecture. He stood when Dean Tymitz introduced him and we all stood and clapped for what seemed like an eternity. I am sure my face was flushed and reddened from the excitement. It is so thrilling to have him on board. He was in the dining hall eating with four students at lunch, and I am bewildered by the generous and receptive nature he has shown everyone this far. I guess I never expected him to mingle and socialize in such an ordinary routine. Perhaps I am one of many placing him on a pedestal too high so that he seems inaccessible. Students walking by him as he sat in the Union for Global Studies did not even realize it was him, one girl practically climbing over him to get to an empty chair in my row. When we told her he was a couple chairs down she laughed and said, ‘Should I go apologize to him for sticking my ass in his face?’”
I miss Brazil already, but the routine of classes has begun again and we have had the honor of listening to our other pre-port lecturer in Anthropology Tourism. It occurs to me that because I have left out all mention of the treats I bought in Brazil, that I have also censored myself from writing about the wonderful adventures that correspond to them, of which this is something I will definitely resolve in my future journals, though, once again, they will be void from the online portion.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
I am assuredly lulled into a false sense of security with the smoothness of the waves and mostly likely tomorrow we will be rocking and rolling across the Atlantic ocean. Signs were hung announcing laundry day and Heather and I managed to pack all of our dirty apparel into one bag. We labeled the white plastic carrier with a pink sharpie, trying to be original and Heather drew a smiley face and wrote thank you. Perhaps we will get our clothes back tomorrow.
Heather writes, “We advanced our clocks one hour tonight and I am told that there will be five more such advancements before our arrival in Cape Town. So, with no further adieu, goodnight, until next time.”
September 19, 2005
At Sea – Rocking and Rolling as Ormond Says
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
It has finally hit. I don’t know whether it is a result of my laxness yesterday in using any of the plethora of seasickness measures I bought with me, but after Global Studies this morning I crashed on the bed and forced down some Dramamine, while ripping out the sea-bands and positioning them on my wrists. We have swells of between six and seven feet, and though we have experienced this height before, the waves are hitting the ship in a different direction and my stomach would completely agree. I did not think that I would be able to eat lunch, but felt as if I should try to eat something. The ship has delicious bread and rolls so I choose a slice of white bread and thought to myself that a bowl of soup would be nice. What a surprise when I discovered it was split pea soup, a traditional South African dish, and consequently it was exactly what the doctor ordered. I felt infinitely better and ready to take on the rest of the day.
Megan writes, “Yes, the inevitable, the direction of the ship has made it nearly impossible to avoid the pitching of breakers against the hull. The six and half feet waves feel incredibly high as small objects, hair claws and pens, fall off their tables onto the carpeted floor. In addition, three of the bon-voyage cards have fallen over in their alcove and several drawers on the nightstand and underneath the television peek open to reveal their organized innards. Just now, as I am writing this, a can of shaving cream has fallen from the shower rack and is rolling noisily across the tile flooring of the bathroom. I will have to secure everything tonight before going to sleep. Does this mean tape? Perhaps not yet.”
We put our cards out from Mom on our nightstand to open in a couple of days, and found it interesting that they do not say to open halfway between Brazil and South Africa, just between the two. So I said it felt like the card was not square, which led from one thing to another, and that the little orange blob showing through the white envelope was probably fish. Needless to say we opened them and found a very cute card depicting a fishbowl. On a side note, Mom, they cannot be Pontus and P2 because they are in the same dish and that means that pretty soon there will only be one fish swimming around the clear surface and one sunk at the bottom – if you get the drift. Anyway, it brightened our day, especially with the minor spell of seasickness. We cannot wait to use our tea, as they only have the bland Lipton brand upstairs.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
Our laundry has returned, it seemed the pink decorations worked miraculously. Even the enormous amount of ironing was hung on the doorknob. I officially believe that we are the only cabin to have received the ironing back as well with our laundry.
Heather writes, “Again, we were honored by the presence of our interport lecturer in Travelers’ Journals and a discussion on the sights of South Africa. I am getting more and more excited and cannot wait to hear Desmund Tutu speak and our imminent arrival in our third port.”
We have magnetized our blackout curtain over the window, as the rolling breakers and plunging patterns of the ship seem to interrupt the darkness with flashes of light from the whitecaps of waves rebounding off of the hull. Thus far it has worked in keeping down the blind. We turned our clocks forward last night and will do so again tonight. Five hours in all will be our goal. How will I ever call home with such a distinct difference?
Tomorrow is Neptune day and I am not even sure what festivities will be available as nothing has really be said about the event. Perhaps the undulation of waves is the announcement of King Neptune to all pollywogs to prepare for initiation. Without much at sea, except classes on the weekend and a daily routine established, I feel as if weeks has elapsed since our stay in Brazil.
Heather writes, “We took an unexpected nap before dinner, and once again we will advance our clocks one hour, putting us a grand total of three hours ahead of our friends and family at home. We do not have class tomorrow because it is Neptune’s Day and I have no idea what to expect, hopefully good food, and maybe some chocolate chip cookies!”
How awkward was it to have class on Sunday? I checked my email and blog several times thinking everyone at home is off because it is the weekend; no emails from the home campus because no one is in the offices.
Heather writes, “Before going to sleep I worked on some study guides for Global Studies and a little writing on my next Tourism essay due sometime in October.”
I am tired and have to turn my clock forward again. Thinking of home and everyone there. Shannon and Ashley’s comments on the blog made me smile on such a chaotic day at sea when everyone looks as if they are either dancing a bizarre routine together, left and then right again and again, or we have all had too much to drink.
September 20, 2005
Shaved Heads – At Last
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
Okay, so I had you going there for a minute, right? No, no shaved heads here. Captain Neptune has prepared quite a show for us with ten-foot waves. Ironically, they feel like less than yesterday, though that is not the case.
Heather writes, “Megan and I awoke at six o’clock this morning regardless of the fact that we had no class today. We were upstairs eating breakfast, a bowl of cereal, English muffin and link of sausage, when the rumors started flying. What was happening down below? Apparently King Neptune’s men were awaking the pollywogs with horns and drums and knocking on doors. Boy am I ever glad that I was awake and dressed! So a steady stream flowed into the Garden Lounge for breakfast looking as if they had just rolled out of bed, and was none to pleased about it.”
On our way from breakfast, Desmond Tutu, yes, Archbishop Desmond Tutu stopped Heather and I to ask if we were twins. He and his wife were on their way to breakfast and of course, I just had to mention this. Unsure of the festivities for the day, we sat in the Piano Lounge for a while, then back to the Garden Lounge for hot tea. Apparently everyone was awoken to loud drumming and the marching of King Neptune and his followers. Luckily I was already up as I hear many students were not overly thrilled about the wake-up call. By the way, did I mention Desmond Tutu asked if Heather and I were twins?
Heather writes, “We made our way back to our cabin, when who should we run into, but none other than Desmund Tutu. How exciting. We had a little chat with him and his wife, before deciding that we would return to the Garden Lounge for a cup of tea. I meet Desmund Tutu today, and he asked if we were twins. How cool is that?”
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
On our second trip back to our room we heard the faintest of drumming, getting gradually louder as King Neptune, his Queen and loyal servants of the sea made their way to the pool deck for a day of festivities. We followed them up to the cheers of “pollywogs” and ridiculous costumes parading around the pool, some of the crew masquerading in pointed foil caps with white sheets wrapped around their shoulders like capes. The King was Captain Jeremy, absolutely resplendent in bright green paint and wig. Where else can an honorable Captain be coerced into the garb of a mythological god? Only on Semester at Sea apparently. Then it was time to recite the official oath and get underway with the transformation from pollywogs to shellbacks, no matter how gross, with goo and grime. Megan and I watched the celebration from the side of the pool as pitchers of what smelled like fish guts were poured over the student’s heads and they splashed into the communal bathtub to wash the grits out of their hair. It was so gross to see the crystal clear water of the pool as it turned to a cloudy mush, and the smell was much worse. Finally we could take it no longer and returned to our cabin. I felt really down because of this ritual and an overwhelming sense of guilt that I was too chicken to become a shellback. I think that we sat in our cabin for about fifteen minutes when suddenly we both decided it was not worth it to regret something so trivial as having fish rot poured over your head. So we threw on our suits and CMBP shorts and ran back up to the pool deck, praying that we were not to late. We made it just in time, and shared a pitcher between the two of us, as the ringleader, our Executive Dean, announced the presence of the twins at last. It was so gross, but at least I can say that we are no longer pollywogs. On a side note, it was not exactly fish guts, but a mixture of probably vinegar and oatmeal, as the fish would make it quite difficult to clean the pool and would be tremendously unhygienic.
Megan writes, “There was an enormous beautiful rainbow over the stern of the ship this morning. With my camera stashed in my purse, I took a couple photos before it vanished. Perhaps King Neptune’s arrival coincided with the appearance of the rainbow. Up on deck seven, near the pool, all pollywogs were initiated, or at least those brave enough.”
Hooray for the shellbacks. I still have my hair, thankfully, though many students decided to shave their heads. I probably washed my hair at least five times and scrubbed my body, but in the end I am glad that I did it, and very pleased with the few pictures that someone took for us on our camera.
Megan writes, “The process was fairly simple, and to some extent, rather official as those initiated had their identification number written down. I am not exactly sure as to the purpose, but I am sure that will eventually be made clear. King Neptune, of course, was the captain painted in green. His followers, the drummers, fish ladies and queen were all wrapped in white sheets with glittering decorations. I thought we weren’t allowed to take sheets out of our cabin? Hmmm. Heather and I didn’t want to contribute such falsehoods to our online journal as: yes, we are no longer pollywogs. As such, we were initiated by the pouring of smelly liquid, supposedly vinegar and oatmeal pieces, but still reeking of disgusting fish, then a jump into the cloudy pool, kissing a fish, and bowing before King Neptune himself. I can now shout, “I AM A SHELLBACK!” I am not feigning such a feat, for I am no longer a pollywog.”
We relaxed for the remainder of the day, doing some work for Global Studies and a paper that is due in Anthropology Tourism at some point in October since I have the first essay completed already.
There are five more days until South Africa and it seems as if everything is flying by.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
The rest of the day I have relaxed and worked some, on and off. Doing some more preparation for my next Global Studies exam and writing my second paper for Anthropology of Tourism.
We went up to the pool bar to get some more water and treated ourselves to our first sodas in twenty-five days. It feels like Survivor where you get that one-bite-of-chip-one-sip-of-soda-deal and then you are without such luxuries again. Of course, not having had soda for so long, the carbonation did not seem too thrilled in my stomach, as I soon felt a little empty.
As for the remainder of the evening, after dinner I will post on the blog and do some writing. Sleep tight…
Bye Bye Brazil
September 17, 2005
Salvador da Bahia Aboard the MV Explorer
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
After eating breakfast this morning on the open deck in the early morning sun Megan and I went up to the library to work on some schoolwork. Actually Megan did the work, while I helped her find some sources from the library. I was shocked, though thrilled, to find that the library has both the Discourse on Colonialism by Cesairè and Black Skin, White Masks by Frantz Fanon. They are without a doubt two of the best pieces on colonization and for them to be apart of the somewhat limited shipboard library is incredibly nice. I had thought that sources for projects would be somewhat lacking, but the library has proven to be very useful and comprehensive in its coverage.
Megan finished her project shortly before lunch, though she still thinks it needs some tweaking. We found ourselves for the second time today enjoying the deck for our noontime meal and rushed back to our rooms to change and head up to the pool. Once again we enjoyed our personal deck, for there were no other sunbathers, and it felt so wonderful to lie on a lounge and relax by the pool. The water was quite cold, but it felt so good in the heat of the Brazilian sun. We probably stayed out for about two hours before returning to our cabin to shower and do some reading that is scheduled between South Africa and Kenya. I feel as if I did not get much sun, but it is much better than being burnt. We used SPF 45 and thought that the rays were very intense, as our knees seemed to be turning red before our very eyes. Still, it did the trick, and though I feel no tanner, I also feel no redder.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
This morning I spent three hours in the library typing and researching the final elements of my presentation for Travelers’ Journals. I found Aimé Césaire’s Discourse on Colonialism and Frantz Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks, two essays I absolutely love and was surprised to find squeezed within the shelves of books. I believe I will have to purchase these two books for my own personal library at some point in my life. I also utilized another book on Candomble, which was quite fabulous in detailing the transportation of Yoruba beliefs to Bahia. I officially finished my presentation and have to add only three more photos from my stay in Brazil to the PowerPoint. Lastly, I will practice the speech over and over and over for the next several days.
Went to lunch and found myself up at the pool deck around noon. Not one student there, not one at all on such a wonderful day. The weather is more perfect than anywhere else I have ever been in the world. Hot days, humidity nonexistent and the most perfect Bahian nights that are cool and calm. Gentle breezes find their way into the traffic of airwaves throughout the course of the day and I almost fell asleep in the peace and calm on my own private pool deck.
Before dinner I went up to the front deck to take some photos of the sunset and the last evening in Brazil. What wonderful photos. I have discovered more about my camera and some different settings that really help to enhance the photography. Overall I am really pleased with the photos and would love to be able to post or email some home, but as yet I am unsuccessful each time I try such an endeavor.
Heather writes, “We went up to deck seven forward, and walked about in the cool breeze taking a couple of photos of the beautiful sunset, around five thirty, and the boats with sails furled in the pinkish tint of the evening sun. Then it was back to the Garden Lounge and dinner in the breeze of the Brazilian night with the lights of the ship and the harbor as a relaxing end to our wonderful stay in Bahia. Back in our cabin we prepared our laundry for tomorrow is laundry day at last. We managed to fit it all in one bag, and I did some artwork in bright pink sharpie on the front – just wanted to brighten the laundry crew’s day from the boredom of white bangs and I figured they needed a thank you.”
Heather and I ate dinner on the back deck as the sun melted like the chocolate ice cream we had for dessert into the calm of the blue sea. Ormond, of course, brought the two scoops of chocolate ice cream with lots of chocolate sprinkles right out to us as I believe he will now deliver anything chocolate to our table. Ormond insisted on four scoops but alas settled on two, though I am sure an extra half scoop found its way into the bowl.
We took some photos of the ship today, as it is extremely empty and seems like the best opportunity to take shots of the classrooms and main areas that are crowded on a daily basis. In the union a banner is hung that reads, “Welcome Archbishop and Mrs. Tutu”.
Heather writes, “It has been truly unforgettable and although I am looking forward to the sway of the sea on these eight days to South Africa, and our upcoming adventures, I am sad to leave someplace that has become so special and meaningful. I will never forget what a wonderful time we had here and the incredible people and culture of such an amazing port city. It is pretty unbelievable that we still have eight ports left, and yet I feel so hesitant to leave one behind. So I would like to pass on a parting quote to this amazing place, “In the world through which I travel, I am endlessly creating myself.” On to more creating; goodbye Brazil. I will miss you.”
I am ready for a couple days at sea, eight actually, and would only like to conclude by saying that I loved Brazil and Salvador da Bahia still possesses a special charm that I am not sure I will ever truly be able to describe. Of course, it is a city, with disturbing alleyways and Portuguese graffiti. In that respect it mimics the New York skyline that it reminds me of exactly. Bye bye multicolored buildings of the Pelourinho and bye bye Brazil.
Salvador da Bahia Aboard the MV Explorer
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
After eating breakfast this morning on the open deck in the early morning sun Megan and I went up to the library to work on some schoolwork. Actually Megan did the work, while I helped her find some sources from the library. I was shocked, though thrilled, to find that the library has both the Discourse on Colonialism by Cesairè and Black Skin, White Masks by Frantz Fanon. They are without a doubt two of the best pieces on colonization and for them to be apart of the somewhat limited shipboard library is incredibly nice. I had thought that sources for projects would be somewhat lacking, but the library has proven to be very useful and comprehensive in its coverage.
Megan finished her project shortly before lunch, though she still thinks it needs some tweaking. We found ourselves for the second time today enjoying the deck for our noontime meal and rushed back to our rooms to change and head up to the pool. Once again we enjoyed our personal deck, for there were no other sunbathers, and it felt so wonderful to lie on a lounge and relax by the pool. The water was quite cold, but it felt so good in the heat of the Brazilian sun. We probably stayed out for about two hours before returning to our cabin to shower and do some reading that is scheduled between South Africa and Kenya. I feel as if I did not get much sun, but it is much better than being burnt. We used SPF 45 and thought that the rays were very intense, as our knees seemed to be turning red before our very eyes. Still, it did the trick, and though I feel no tanner, I also feel no redder.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
This morning I spent three hours in the library typing and researching the final elements of my presentation for Travelers’ Journals. I found Aimé Césaire’s Discourse on Colonialism and Frantz Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks, two essays I absolutely love and was surprised to find squeezed within the shelves of books. I believe I will have to purchase these two books for my own personal library at some point in my life. I also utilized another book on Candomble, which was quite fabulous in detailing the transportation of Yoruba beliefs to Bahia. I officially finished my presentation and have to add only three more photos from my stay in Brazil to the PowerPoint. Lastly, I will practice the speech over and over and over for the next several days.
Went to lunch and found myself up at the pool deck around noon. Not one student there, not one at all on such a wonderful day. The weather is more perfect than anywhere else I have ever been in the world. Hot days, humidity nonexistent and the most perfect Bahian nights that are cool and calm. Gentle breezes find their way into the traffic of airwaves throughout the course of the day and I almost fell asleep in the peace and calm on my own private pool deck.
Before dinner I went up to the front deck to take some photos of the sunset and the last evening in Brazil. What wonderful photos. I have discovered more about my camera and some different settings that really help to enhance the photography. Overall I am really pleased with the photos and would love to be able to post or email some home, but as yet I am unsuccessful each time I try such an endeavor.
Heather writes, “We went up to deck seven forward, and walked about in the cool breeze taking a couple of photos of the beautiful sunset, around five thirty, and the boats with sails furled in the pinkish tint of the evening sun. Then it was back to the Garden Lounge and dinner in the breeze of the Brazilian night with the lights of the ship and the harbor as a relaxing end to our wonderful stay in Bahia. Back in our cabin we prepared our laundry for tomorrow is laundry day at last. We managed to fit it all in one bag, and I did some artwork in bright pink sharpie on the front – just wanted to brighten the laundry crew’s day from the boredom of white bangs and I figured they needed a thank you.”
Heather and I ate dinner on the back deck as the sun melted like the chocolate ice cream we had for dessert into the calm of the blue sea. Ormond, of course, brought the two scoops of chocolate ice cream with lots of chocolate sprinkles right out to us as I believe he will now deliver anything chocolate to our table. Ormond insisted on four scoops but alas settled on two, though I am sure an extra half scoop found its way into the bowl.
We took some photos of the ship today, as it is extremely empty and seems like the best opportunity to take shots of the classrooms and main areas that are crowded on a daily basis. In the union a banner is hung that reads, “Welcome Archbishop and Mrs. Tutu”.
Heather writes, “It has been truly unforgettable and although I am looking forward to the sway of the sea on these eight days to South Africa, and our upcoming adventures, I am sad to leave someplace that has become so special and meaningful. I will never forget what a wonderful time we had here and the incredible people and culture of such an amazing port city. It is pretty unbelievable that we still have eight ports left, and yet I feel so hesitant to leave one behind. So I would like to pass on a parting quote to this amazing place, “In the world through which I travel, I am endlessly creating myself.” On to more creating; goodbye Brazil. I will miss you.”
I am ready for a couple days at sea, eight actually, and would only like to conclude by saying that I loved Brazil and Salvador da Bahia still possesses a special charm that I am not sure I will ever truly be able to describe. Of course, it is a city, with disturbing alleyways and Portuguese graffiti. In that respect it mimics the New York skyline that it reminds me of exactly. Bye bye multicolored buildings of the Pelourinho and bye bye Brazil.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Shopping Trip
We have been a little blog happy in Brazil, especially since we have not gone on any overnight trips and have easy access to the Internet. There is an individual posting for each day in Bahia so if you have not read anything about our adventures don’t forget to start reading at “A Very Special Day,” and then “Itaparica Island,” and “An Unexpected Excursion,” before reading about today. If you don’t have time to read it all, “A Very Special Day” should be the selected reading of choice as it is perhaps the most significant experience to date. Happy reading! And drop us a comment.
September 16, 2005
Mercado Modelo
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
We slept in again this morning and woke up around seven thirty. I still cannot believe how late the trip finished last night and was so glad to climb into the soft sheets of my bed. I had an omelet for breakfast for the first time during the voyage. It was very good with ham and cheese and a nice accompaniment to my raisin bran cereal, though I did not have my usual cinnamon raisin bread with butter and strawberry jelly. I am definitely enjoying my breakfasts on the ship, so much so that it is very difficult to wait out the early morning routine before breakfast. We have a lot of fun talking to the staff in the Garden Lounge, especially Dimitar from Bulgaria, and Ormond, from where else, St. Vincent, so of course we are good friends.
They know that we enjoy a small glass of orange juice for breakfast and often bring it without asking, and that we love to sit by the tall windows to look out at sea. On one occasion they reserved the last table by the window for us when we appeared in the line and we were so surprised that the reserved table was ours. We could not believe it. They also like to joke with us about our dessert tastes, of which they know chocolate chips are our favorite and the occasional chocolate brownie, and are very diligent about bringing us dessert when they are sure it is something we can’t live without. But I will let you know when the cookies ever appear. We have a running joke about raiding the bakery, and sometimes Ormond tells some jokes that if answered correctly would result in a chocolate chip cookie reward. But where am I going with this? Obviously it has something to do with chocolate, though I am skipping forward to the evening hours. It has been some time since I have actually had chocolate and I have to say that I don’t think I could wait anymore. We went up to the pool bistro this evening to purchase water and a chocolate treat – Megan choose peanut M&M’s, and I a 3 Musketeers. I have never tasted anything so good in my life. I know, Bomboy’s Candy is delicious and homemade brownies, but that is when you are at home and have those things available to you.
I started my day by downloading some pictures from last night while Megan worked on her project, which consumed much of the morning hours. For lunch we met Jess and her roommate Amanda at the Garden Lounge and ate outside on the deck before departing for the market around one o’clock, purchasing stamps at the terminal before heading on our way.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
This morning I worked on my project for Travelers’ Journals. Having finished the five hundred-page novel about four days ago I have been observing Brazil’s landscape, people and atmosphere. I believe I will start my presentation with a general overview of the book, as I was the only individual to read the paperback volume. Themes and motifs will be dynamic elements to the relationship the novel has with Salvador da Bahia and I will most likely discuss civilization versus Europeanization as a major premise to understanding Brazil’s social system. In addition I will also address how the novel prepared me for Brazil and the Candomble elements with the book. The professor has conveyed to me that even though my presentation is originally stated in the syllabus as September 22, 2005, I may have an extension as the book is large and not many days follow our departure from Brazil to prepare for the lecture. I believe I will still be ready on the original date and have only to decide if my presentation will include PowerPoint material, which I believe that it will. Some of my photos from my stay could serve as wonderful depictions of elements within the novel.
Meeting Jess and Amanda from 2030 for lunch we soon found ourselves on our way to the Bahian handicraft market. Each of us with our on little shopping lists we remained in a group even during the chaotic bartering. It is wonderful to have people you can trust and have confidence in during such a frenzied atmosphere. With our purchases, and some extra reals left over, we headed back to the ship in less than two hours. Salvador is magnificent during the daytime and there is so much energy from the people.
Heather writes, “The market is so overwhelming even when you know what to expect, but Megan and I were on a mission and completed our shopping in about one hour. After reboarding the ship, Megan returned to her project while I wrote a couple of postcards home to take up to the Purser’s Office to mail, and return our passports because you are required to carry them in Brazil along with your immigration papers. I feel so good now that our postcards from both Venezuela and Brazil are mailed and look forward to hearing from home regarding their arrivals.”
Back in the port terminal we found ourselves making a last minute purchase for Dad, sorry no more hints. We bought twelve stamps for twenty-four reals. The postcards from Venezuela have been sent home and Brazil postcards will see their way into the mail later today.
Heather worked on accounting and balancing our purchases on a paper we keep in the safe while I worked some more on my presentation. She has been really supportive during this time and it feels so wonderful to have her additional help keeping things tidy in the cabin and labeling and packing our purchases without my assistance this time.
We went to dinner, where the dining room staff has completely mastered our names and does not even confuse us for each other. Ormond, from Saint Vincent who always smiles, as well as Dimitar have been tested quite a few times in which Heather and I have traded purses and such. Regardless they always get it right. We even have a running joke on chocolate chip cookies, as such Ormond now thinks we like everything chocolate and brought us a chocolate crumb pudding the other night for dessert. It was the consistency of cake and might I impart much better than the brownie.
After dinner we went up to the pool bar to purchase a one and a half liter bottle of water. Heather gave into the urge for real chocolate and purchased a Three Musketeers and I got peanut M&M’s. Even the attendant at the counter, who we have only seen once, I am sure (when we got chocolate chip cookies at the barbeque) knew our names.
I felt the water in the pool and as no one was up there at six o’clock in the growing dusk Heather and I decided to slip into our swimsuits and have a private dip. We went up for about an hour, in which we sat in the growing darkness alone, chatting about our plans for tomorrow, which include staying on the ship, relaxing by the pool, washing some laundry, and doing some papers.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
After eating dinner, watching a beautiful sunset from our window table, we went up to the pool deck to make our purchases, of which I previously mentioned. It was deserted on the deck and we could not help but wish we were enjoying the warm pool water in the evening hours of Brazil. So, we went back to our room and changed into our suits to take an evening dip in the pool on what seemed our personal deck, except for the two crew working at the bistro. It was so beautiful looking off into the distance across the water at the lights of Itaparica and the many ocean faring vessels. The pool is very nice with a central area flanked by a ledge to sit on and sides shaped like a semi-circle. The water flows from the sides through holes cut in the ledge to the central pool with the swaying of the ship that makes a very relaxing sound of rushing water. It was around six o’clock when we went up, at which time it was already nearing dark, and almost seven when we returned to our cabin to shower and eat our much-desired treats.
We turned in early for a very quiet evening aboard the ship, rocking back and forth with the rising tide. Tomorrow is another very relaxing day in which we plan to work a little bit on some school related projects and enjoy for the first time the splendor of the pool deck in the warm rays of the sun.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
We went back downstairs and showered, hopping into our beds to journal and eat our chocolate. We turned on the television, but no good movies, unless you like unclothed Indians skipping about the screen with leaf loincloths and lip plates stretching their mouths to enormously large portions.
I am ready for bed even though it is only seven thirty. I would love to check my email but as there is an hour difference I have a feeling mom and dad would only have had an hour since returning home from work to even look online at any new posting and emails we have sent during the day. I might sleep in a little tomorrow, having grabbed an extra box of cereal this morning for such an event. With an apple in the fridge and the cereal I should be able to make it until eleven thirty without being hungry.
Tomorrow around five thirty I would love to take some photos of the Brazilian sunset, as I have not done so yet. With it being the last day in Brazil I suspect many students will be returning from extended trips and there will be long lines to contend with. Desmond Tutu should be boarding tomorrow at some point, as he will be making the crossing to South Africa with us. I am eager to get back into classes and look forward to what amazing experiences await me in Capetown. Good night Brazil and good night cosmic void. Until tomorrow…
September 16, 2005
Mercado Modelo
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
We slept in again this morning and woke up around seven thirty. I still cannot believe how late the trip finished last night and was so glad to climb into the soft sheets of my bed. I had an omelet for breakfast for the first time during the voyage. It was very good with ham and cheese and a nice accompaniment to my raisin bran cereal, though I did not have my usual cinnamon raisin bread with butter and strawberry jelly. I am definitely enjoying my breakfasts on the ship, so much so that it is very difficult to wait out the early morning routine before breakfast. We have a lot of fun talking to the staff in the Garden Lounge, especially Dimitar from Bulgaria, and Ormond, from where else, St. Vincent, so of course we are good friends.
They know that we enjoy a small glass of orange juice for breakfast and often bring it without asking, and that we love to sit by the tall windows to look out at sea. On one occasion they reserved the last table by the window for us when we appeared in the line and we were so surprised that the reserved table was ours. We could not believe it. They also like to joke with us about our dessert tastes, of which they know chocolate chips are our favorite and the occasional chocolate brownie, and are very diligent about bringing us dessert when they are sure it is something we can’t live without. But I will let you know when the cookies ever appear. We have a running joke about raiding the bakery, and sometimes Ormond tells some jokes that if answered correctly would result in a chocolate chip cookie reward. But where am I going with this? Obviously it has something to do with chocolate, though I am skipping forward to the evening hours. It has been some time since I have actually had chocolate and I have to say that I don’t think I could wait anymore. We went up to the pool bistro this evening to purchase water and a chocolate treat – Megan choose peanut M&M’s, and I a 3 Musketeers. I have never tasted anything so good in my life. I know, Bomboy’s Candy is delicious and homemade brownies, but that is when you are at home and have those things available to you.
I started my day by downloading some pictures from last night while Megan worked on her project, which consumed much of the morning hours. For lunch we met Jess and her roommate Amanda at the Garden Lounge and ate outside on the deck before departing for the market around one o’clock, purchasing stamps at the terminal before heading on our way.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
This morning I worked on my project for Travelers’ Journals. Having finished the five hundred-page novel about four days ago I have been observing Brazil’s landscape, people and atmosphere. I believe I will start my presentation with a general overview of the book, as I was the only individual to read the paperback volume. Themes and motifs will be dynamic elements to the relationship the novel has with Salvador da Bahia and I will most likely discuss civilization versus Europeanization as a major premise to understanding Brazil’s social system. In addition I will also address how the novel prepared me for Brazil and the Candomble elements with the book. The professor has conveyed to me that even though my presentation is originally stated in the syllabus as September 22, 2005, I may have an extension as the book is large and not many days follow our departure from Brazil to prepare for the lecture. I believe I will still be ready on the original date and have only to decide if my presentation will include PowerPoint material, which I believe that it will. Some of my photos from my stay could serve as wonderful depictions of elements within the novel.
Meeting Jess and Amanda from 2030 for lunch we soon found ourselves on our way to the Bahian handicraft market. Each of us with our on little shopping lists we remained in a group even during the chaotic bartering. It is wonderful to have people you can trust and have confidence in during such a frenzied atmosphere. With our purchases, and some extra reals left over, we headed back to the ship in less than two hours. Salvador is magnificent during the daytime and there is so much energy from the people.
Heather writes, “The market is so overwhelming even when you know what to expect, but Megan and I were on a mission and completed our shopping in about one hour. After reboarding the ship, Megan returned to her project while I wrote a couple of postcards home to take up to the Purser’s Office to mail, and return our passports because you are required to carry them in Brazil along with your immigration papers. I feel so good now that our postcards from both Venezuela and Brazil are mailed and look forward to hearing from home regarding their arrivals.”
Back in the port terminal we found ourselves making a last minute purchase for Dad, sorry no more hints. We bought twelve stamps for twenty-four reals. The postcards from Venezuela have been sent home and Brazil postcards will see their way into the mail later today.
Heather worked on accounting and balancing our purchases on a paper we keep in the safe while I worked some more on my presentation. She has been really supportive during this time and it feels so wonderful to have her additional help keeping things tidy in the cabin and labeling and packing our purchases without my assistance this time.
We went to dinner, where the dining room staff has completely mastered our names and does not even confuse us for each other. Ormond, from Saint Vincent who always smiles, as well as Dimitar have been tested quite a few times in which Heather and I have traded purses and such. Regardless they always get it right. We even have a running joke on chocolate chip cookies, as such Ormond now thinks we like everything chocolate and brought us a chocolate crumb pudding the other night for dessert. It was the consistency of cake and might I impart much better than the brownie.
After dinner we went up to the pool bar to purchase a one and a half liter bottle of water. Heather gave into the urge for real chocolate and purchased a Three Musketeers and I got peanut M&M’s. Even the attendant at the counter, who we have only seen once, I am sure (when we got chocolate chip cookies at the barbeque) knew our names.
I felt the water in the pool and as no one was up there at six o’clock in the growing dusk Heather and I decided to slip into our swimsuits and have a private dip. We went up for about an hour, in which we sat in the growing darkness alone, chatting about our plans for tomorrow, which include staying on the ship, relaxing by the pool, washing some laundry, and doing some papers.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
After eating dinner, watching a beautiful sunset from our window table, we went up to the pool deck to make our purchases, of which I previously mentioned. It was deserted on the deck and we could not help but wish we were enjoying the warm pool water in the evening hours of Brazil. So, we went back to our room and changed into our suits to take an evening dip in the pool on what seemed our personal deck, except for the two crew working at the bistro. It was so beautiful looking off into the distance across the water at the lights of Itaparica and the many ocean faring vessels. The pool is very nice with a central area flanked by a ledge to sit on and sides shaped like a semi-circle. The water flows from the sides through holes cut in the ledge to the central pool with the swaying of the ship that makes a very relaxing sound of rushing water. It was around six o’clock when we went up, at which time it was already nearing dark, and almost seven when we returned to our cabin to shower and eat our much-desired treats.
We turned in early for a very quiet evening aboard the ship, rocking back and forth with the rising tide. Tomorrow is another very relaxing day in which we plan to work a little bit on some school related projects and enjoy for the first time the splendor of the pool deck in the warm rays of the sun.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
We went back downstairs and showered, hopping into our beds to journal and eat our chocolate. We turned on the television, but no good movies, unless you like unclothed Indians skipping about the screen with leaf loincloths and lip plates stretching their mouths to enormously large portions.
I am ready for bed even though it is only seven thirty. I would love to check my email but as there is an hour difference I have a feeling mom and dad would only have had an hour since returning home from work to even look online at any new posting and emails we have sent during the day. I might sleep in a little tomorrow, having grabbed an extra box of cereal this morning for such an event. With an apple in the fridge and the cereal I should be able to make it until eleven thirty without being hungry.
Tomorrow around five thirty I would love to take some photos of the Brazilian sunset, as I have not done so yet. With it being the last day in Brazil I suspect many students will be returning from extended trips and there will be long lines to contend with. Desmond Tutu should be boarding tomorrow at some point, as he will be making the crossing to South Africa with us. I am eager to get back into classes and look forward to what amazing experiences await me in Capetown. Good night Brazil and good night cosmic void. Until tomorrow…
Friday, September 16, 2005
An Unexpected Excursion
September 15, 2005
Mercado Modelo and Bahia by Night
I know that we have been updating quite regularly while in Brazil so if you have not read about our adventures from the first two days don’t forget to check out the postings, “A Very Special Day” and “Itaparica Island.”
On a side note, we are sending lots of luck and love to Ashley today. We love you and miss you and everything is going to work out. Don’t worry, be happy.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal
We slept in a little this morning, which unfortunately means only about an hour longer or we would miss breakfast because it ends at eight thirty. Of course Megan has suggested that we sleep straight through breakfast and report to the pool bistro for a hot cinnamon bun. I might just take her up on that in the next few days.
After breakfast we sat in the piano lounge and worked on our anthropology papers that are due on the twenty-first in our cultural tourism course. I am very happy with what I have written, though we did not finish them at this time, but a little later on in the evening. During the time we worked on our papers the crew practiced the lifeboat drills and lowered one of the boats. It was very interesting to see them scurrying around in their vests and the fire doors closing in what appeared a seamless performance.
Megan writes, “After the eventful and tiring last two days I spent the morning hours aboard the MV Explorer taking a much-needed respite from the activities of Salvador. With a paper due September 21st I decided to spend my hours wisely. Not only did I complete the paper for Anthropology Tourism, but I printed the document as well. It is better to print the essay now, rather than during the crossing to South Africa, as many more students will be utilizing the facilities and oftentimes paper is either low or out.
I am quite satisfied with my first paper, surprised at my resourcefulness and inventiveness for the essay in which there are few requirements that include five pages double-spaced. I spent the overall meat of the paper discussing the authenticity of Coche’s conch mounds and the effect the tourist gaze has provoked. It is clever and oftentimes relies on graphic and expressive analysis in order to establish a conclusion. I am ready to complete my second paper for the course already even though it is not due for another month. It will address the orishas, authenticity to Yoruba beliefs and the comparison to art forms in Africa.”
Today we had a very unexpected adventure. We thought that we would devote some time to relaxing on the ship and taking in some rays, but we were told that a couple of students were going to the market at eleven. Thus we found ourselves with two other girls and a guy, solely for security purposes, heading to the Mercado Modelo to shop for Brazilian handicrafts and such. It was much like any craft market found throughout the Caribbean, but is housed in a colonial building with two levels and is absolutely enormous. Again, I cannot and will not divulge the outcome of this very exciting and successful trip, though I know you would love to hear what we bought. Although, I will tell you that I bought a painting. It is a depiction of the Pelourinho and the upper and lower city with the ocean creating a beautiful blue backdrop to the colorful colonial architecture and bright green palm trees. There are tiny stick-like people dressed in traditional Bahia costumes spread throughout the painting and it is so animated and energetic that the scene almost jumps off the canvas.
We have found it very easy to exchange money at the port terminal, and have even discovered a small post office there as well and will mail postcards tomorrow. It was so thrilling to be out in Brazil, with a feeling of ease and security, though the market is always intimidating with vendors competing for your attention. We talked a lot with one of the girls that went along with us, her name is Jess and she is from Minnesota. Her roommate is also from Minnesota and they were friends before Semester at Sea. We were so excited to find someone else that was looking for fellow classmates to explore the nearby area around the port with and who are not interested in drinking, bars, partying, or being out after dark. It was so refreshing and we decided to have lunch tomorrow at twelve thirty before returning to the market. Yes, we still have some last minute shopping to do, actually we did not take enough money with us yesterday, as we did not know what to expect and wanted to be safe. So the four of us are going to the market and I think that we have finally found someone to hangout with that has a similar personality.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
Three students were going out to the Bahian market around 11:00 and Heather and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to have a group, particularly a guy. The market was busy, vendors pointing and waving you into their stalls trying to interest you in their products, the same merchandise everyone else seems to have. I purchased a small painting that is perhaps the most vivid artwork I have seen. Difficult to describe, the canvas is stretched over a wooden frame much like the paintings I have purchased from places like Haiti. Four swatches of swirling patterns are tiled across the background and a slice of watermelon, banana, mango and strawberry are splashed around the central woman, no face or physical features, with a large skirt twirling - iridescent embellishment that is, I believe, acrylic paint decorating her apparel. She is a Candomble dancer.
Heather also purchased a painting, a scene of Salvador with small colorful houses, the ocean in the background and dancers parading the streets. After running out of money, surprisingly, we returned to the ship with Jess from 2030. She seems very much like us and we decided to meet for lunch at 12:30 tomorrow and head back to the market at 1:00. Her roommate has been on a trip and wants to go to the market with a group when she returns. The four of us will head out and have some fun in the wonderful warmth of the Salvador sun. There are a couple more things we would like to get at the market, postcards in the terminal, and at last, take care of our mail.
Heather writes, “We returned to the ship after our short, yet sudden trip, and finished our five page papers on cultural tourism. It feels so good to have this project done so that I can focus on other things, perhaps the next essay. I wrote my first paper on Pre-Columbian influences in Latin American tourist art, meaning the ceramics from Margarita Island and Itaparica Island with a comparison on what is authentic and what is appropriated from other cultures. I think that my next response will be on the Candomble House and ceremony performed by the priestess.”
Later we got ready for our trip through Semester at Sea, wearing blue jeans, ribbed tanks, and a black shrug. The location of the performance was incredible. Cobbled streets led down to a plantation house. Again, the feeling of rolling down the steep incline was in my thoughts as I tried to maneuver my foot in a choreography of gentle steps and careful footings. At the bottom we entered the manorhouse with its own sugar mill, church and slaves’ quarters. It was also a restaurant and I thought this was the place we would be eating dinner, especially while we watched the performance on a wooden stage in the center of the room. But, no, this was not the case.
The dance of the main orishas followed by the Caboclo dance, maculele stick and sword dance, capoeira martial arts dance, and many more were indeed quite a sight. So many of the routines were danced with such fiery and speed that not even the camera would capture solid shapes. Much of the one hundred some photos from the performance manifest blurred lines of the dancers and glows of the costumes arched across the photo in the silhouette of their movements. Actually, some of the pictures are beautiful with these glows and quite unique.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
This evening we went on the Bahia by night trip and found ourselves in this beautifully overgrown square with colonial architecture in the approaching dusk. I have said it before, but I will have to say it again. Apparently there are several streets in Brazil that you are expected to roll down head over heels instead of walk down, for we were descending the smooth cobbles down into the steep, dark void of darkness, practically plummeting into the square. We went inside an old manor house that has been converted into a museum and out onto a pier overlooking the harbor and the sparkling lights of the city. A swift ocean breeze whisked past the group, bringing with it the sent of salt and cool Brazilian nights. Once inside we descended into the basement where tables and chairs surrounded a raised wooden platform.
A long performance ensued, first the Candomble with the brightly attired orishas, followed by the capoiera and sword dances. At one point the dancers fought with metallic machetes and wooden poles clicking in time to the beating of drums in a flurry of movement and arcing metal. Clangs of the blades rang rhythmically throughout the stone room. In another very startling portion of the performance two women came out in elaborately flowing paneled skirts topless, decorated in white body paint. It was quite interesting to see the marked increase in the amount of pictures being snapped from the male population of our group as the girls lowered their cameras and averted their eyes in shocked horror at the scene unfolding on the stage. Directly across from us on the other side of the stage sat a student from our group dressed in a black polo, and during the entire performance his mouth hung open; it made me want to go over and pick up his jaw. As I look back at some of our photos, he is there, and I will never forget that ridiculous grin hanging on his face throughout the performance.
Megan writes, “After the performance we left the manorhouse for the Villa’s, a restaurant about thirty minutes away. Had I known that at eight thirty we would be making our way to eat an enormous meal, I might not have chosen the trip. On the other hand, the food and company was excellent so I cannot complain. It was just incredibly late and I was tired. The interport lecturers for the next port, a father and son, were at out table, and we spoke a little about South Africa. Overall it was a pleasant evening although not what I had in mind.”
At the conclusion of the show we boarded the bus for a thirty-minute drive to the Villas, a restaurant located in the city. It was very fancy and after loading your plate from a five-star buffet the waiters brought skewers of every type of meat imaginable to the table. It was incredible and the food was very good, though I was quite tired by this point. I was shocked and disgusted when one waiter brought chicken hearts around and I definitely passed that one up. Sorry dad, just not one I could try. But they did serve crocodile and many other types of meat and the buffet was delicious with gourmet olives, mozzarella da buffala, which is the best, garlic bread, and many other delicacies that I did not try like caviar, salmon, sushi, peppers, white asparagus and so on and so forth.
Finally we returned to the ship at eleven after a long bus ride of which I felt quite sick. I have found that although I do not get seasick that a prolonged ride on a bumpy tour bus does not go over well with my stomach. At one point in the ride we were literally bounced a foot out of our seats and it would probably have been better to hang from the ceiling than clutching our seat cushions with white knuckles. It is time for bed and I can’t wait to sleep in tomorrow and relax.
Megan writes, “In bed by eleven thirty I was glad to be on the ship, the tide rocking the boat up and down in the port of Salvador.”
Mercado Modelo and Bahia by Night
I know that we have been updating quite regularly while in Brazil so if you have not read about our adventures from the first two days don’t forget to check out the postings, “A Very Special Day” and “Itaparica Island.”
On a side note, we are sending lots of luck and love to Ashley today. We love you and miss you and everything is going to work out. Don’t worry, be happy.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal
We slept in a little this morning, which unfortunately means only about an hour longer or we would miss breakfast because it ends at eight thirty. Of course Megan has suggested that we sleep straight through breakfast and report to the pool bistro for a hot cinnamon bun. I might just take her up on that in the next few days.
After breakfast we sat in the piano lounge and worked on our anthropology papers that are due on the twenty-first in our cultural tourism course. I am very happy with what I have written, though we did not finish them at this time, but a little later on in the evening. During the time we worked on our papers the crew practiced the lifeboat drills and lowered one of the boats. It was very interesting to see them scurrying around in their vests and the fire doors closing in what appeared a seamless performance.
Megan writes, “After the eventful and tiring last two days I spent the morning hours aboard the MV Explorer taking a much-needed respite from the activities of Salvador. With a paper due September 21st I decided to spend my hours wisely. Not only did I complete the paper for Anthropology Tourism, but I printed the document as well. It is better to print the essay now, rather than during the crossing to South Africa, as many more students will be utilizing the facilities and oftentimes paper is either low or out.
I am quite satisfied with my first paper, surprised at my resourcefulness and inventiveness for the essay in which there are few requirements that include five pages double-spaced. I spent the overall meat of the paper discussing the authenticity of Coche’s conch mounds and the effect the tourist gaze has provoked. It is clever and oftentimes relies on graphic and expressive analysis in order to establish a conclusion. I am ready to complete my second paper for the course already even though it is not due for another month. It will address the orishas, authenticity to Yoruba beliefs and the comparison to art forms in Africa.”
Today we had a very unexpected adventure. We thought that we would devote some time to relaxing on the ship and taking in some rays, but we were told that a couple of students were going to the market at eleven. Thus we found ourselves with two other girls and a guy, solely for security purposes, heading to the Mercado Modelo to shop for Brazilian handicrafts and such. It was much like any craft market found throughout the Caribbean, but is housed in a colonial building with two levels and is absolutely enormous. Again, I cannot and will not divulge the outcome of this very exciting and successful trip, though I know you would love to hear what we bought. Although, I will tell you that I bought a painting. It is a depiction of the Pelourinho and the upper and lower city with the ocean creating a beautiful blue backdrop to the colorful colonial architecture and bright green palm trees. There are tiny stick-like people dressed in traditional Bahia costumes spread throughout the painting and it is so animated and energetic that the scene almost jumps off the canvas.
We have found it very easy to exchange money at the port terminal, and have even discovered a small post office there as well and will mail postcards tomorrow. It was so thrilling to be out in Brazil, with a feeling of ease and security, though the market is always intimidating with vendors competing for your attention. We talked a lot with one of the girls that went along with us, her name is Jess and she is from Minnesota. Her roommate is also from Minnesota and they were friends before Semester at Sea. We were so excited to find someone else that was looking for fellow classmates to explore the nearby area around the port with and who are not interested in drinking, bars, partying, or being out after dark. It was so refreshing and we decided to have lunch tomorrow at twelve thirty before returning to the market. Yes, we still have some last minute shopping to do, actually we did not take enough money with us yesterday, as we did not know what to expect and wanted to be safe. So the four of us are going to the market and I think that we have finally found someone to hangout with that has a similar personality.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
Three students were going out to the Bahian market around 11:00 and Heather and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to have a group, particularly a guy. The market was busy, vendors pointing and waving you into their stalls trying to interest you in their products, the same merchandise everyone else seems to have. I purchased a small painting that is perhaps the most vivid artwork I have seen. Difficult to describe, the canvas is stretched over a wooden frame much like the paintings I have purchased from places like Haiti. Four swatches of swirling patterns are tiled across the background and a slice of watermelon, banana, mango and strawberry are splashed around the central woman, no face or physical features, with a large skirt twirling - iridescent embellishment that is, I believe, acrylic paint decorating her apparel. She is a Candomble dancer.
Heather also purchased a painting, a scene of Salvador with small colorful houses, the ocean in the background and dancers parading the streets. After running out of money, surprisingly, we returned to the ship with Jess from 2030. She seems very much like us and we decided to meet for lunch at 12:30 tomorrow and head back to the market at 1:00. Her roommate has been on a trip and wants to go to the market with a group when she returns. The four of us will head out and have some fun in the wonderful warmth of the Salvador sun. There are a couple more things we would like to get at the market, postcards in the terminal, and at last, take care of our mail.
Heather writes, “We returned to the ship after our short, yet sudden trip, and finished our five page papers on cultural tourism. It feels so good to have this project done so that I can focus on other things, perhaps the next essay. I wrote my first paper on Pre-Columbian influences in Latin American tourist art, meaning the ceramics from Margarita Island and Itaparica Island with a comparison on what is authentic and what is appropriated from other cultures. I think that my next response will be on the Candomble House and ceremony performed by the priestess.”
Later we got ready for our trip through Semester at Sea, wearing blue jeans, ribbed tanks, and a black shrug. The location of the performance was incredible. Cobbled streets led down to a plantation house. Again, the feeling of rolling down the steep incline was in my thoughts as I tried to maneuver my foot in a choreography of gentle steps and careful footings. At the bottom we entered the manorhouse with its own sugar mill, church and slaves’ quarters. It was also a restaurant and I thought this was the place we would be eating dinner, especially while we watched the performance on a wooden stage in the center of the room. But, no, this was not the case.
The dance of the main orishas followed by the Caboclo dance, maculele stick and sword dance, capoeira martial arts dance, and many more were indeed quite a sight. So many of the routines were danced with such fiery and speed that not even the camera would capture solid shapes. Much of the one hundred some photos from the performance manifest blurred lines of the dancers and glows of the costumes arched across the photo in the silhouette of their movements. Actually, some of the pictures are beautiful with these glows and quite unique.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
This evening we went on the Bahia by night trip and found ourselves in this beautifully overgrown square with colonial architecture in the approaching dusk. I have said it before, but I will have to say it again. Apparently there are several streets in Brazil that you are expected to roll down head over heels instead of walk down, for we were descending the smooth cobbles down into the steep, dark void of darkness, practically plummeting into the square. We went inside an old manor house that has been converted into a museum and out onto a pier overlooking the harbor and the sparkling lights of the city. A swift ocean breeze whisked past the group, bringing with it the sent of salt and cool Brazilian nights. Once inside we descended into the basement where tables and chairs surrounded a raised wooden platform.
A long performance ensued, first the Candomble with the brightly attired orishas, followed by the capoiera and sword dances. At one point the dancers fought with metallic machetes and wooden poles clicking in time to the beating of drums in a flurry of movement and arcing metal. Clangs of the blades rang rhythmically throughout the stone room. In another very startling portion of the performance two women came out in elaborately flowing paneled skirts topless, decorated in white body paint. It was quite interesting to see the marked increase in the amount of pictures being snapped from the male population of our group as the girls lowered their cameras and averted their eyes in shocked horror at the scene unfolding on the stage. Directly across from us on the other side of the stage sat a student from our group dressed in a black polo, and during the entire performance his mouth hung open; it made me want to go over and pick up his jaw. As I look back at some of our photos, he is there, and I will never forget that ridiculous grin hanging on his face throughout the performance.
Megan writes, “After the performance we left the manorhouse for the Villa’s, a restaurant about thirty minutes away. Had I known that at eight thirty we would be making our way to eat an enormous meal, I might not have chosen the trip. On the other hand, the food and company was excellent so I cannot complain. It was just incredibly late and I was tired. The interport lecturers for the next port, a father and son, were at out table, and we spoke a little about South Africa. Overall it was a pleasant evening although not what I had in mind.”
At the conclusion of the show we boarded the bus for a thirty-minute drive to the Villas, a restaurant located in the city. It was very fancy and after loading your plate from a five-star buffet the waiters brought skewers of every type of meat imaginable to the table. It was incredible and the food was very good, though I was quite tired by this point. I was shocked and disgusted when one waiter brought chicken hearts around and I definitely passed that one up. Sorry dad, just not one I could try. But they did serve crocodile and many other types of meat and the buffet was delicious with gourmet olives, mozzarella da buffala, which is the best, garlic bread, and many other delicacies that I did not try like caviar, salmon, sushi, peppers, white asparagus and so on and so forth.
Finally we returned to the ship at eleven after a long bus ride of which I felt quite sick. I have found that although I do not get seasick that a prolonged ride on a bumpy tour bus does not go over well with my stomach. At one point in the ride we were literally bounced a foot out of our seats and it would probably have been better to hang from the ceiling than clutching our seat cushions with white knuckles. It is time for bed and I can’t wait to sleep in tomorrow and relax.
Megan writes, “In bed by eleven thirty I was glad to be on the ship, the tide rocking the boat up and down in the port of Salvador.”
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Itaparica Island
Don't forget to read our posting "A Very Special Day" if you have not read about our first day in Brazil!
September 14, 2005
Itaparica Island and Maragogipinho
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
A beautiful morning in Bahia with a gentle breeze sweeping through the port terminal is a welcome sign of what the day will bring. With curly hair, diffused for the first time, around eight thirty we departed for our field directed practicum under our anthropology professor Willie Smyth. There were only fourteen participants, which is quite a change from the overly large tours and boisterous crowd.
Heather writes, “Today was the first day since the beginning of the voyage that we wore our hair curly and I definitely think we threw some people off. At eight thirty we made our way by bus back up to the old district in the upper city and Pelourinho. Even in the morning hours Brazil evokes a certain charm. The city still holds a subdued whisper of a bygone era with small reminders of the modern day like the internet café squeezed between a colonial church and a lanchonete, which is the Portuguese spelling of a Brazilian fast food joint.”
Back at the same museum, only in the cellar, we were given a grand tour of the Archaeology collection of ceramics from the region. Again, I watched amazed while the expert spoke Portuguese, our tour guide translating, and he touching and holding the pieces that are more than five hundred years old. Photography was permitted and it was Heather’s turn in the limelight, as she found herself face-to-face with Wari ceramics, zoomorphs with frogs. I felt so glad that both of us have seen things in Brazil relating to our studies. Returning to Maryland we will most assuredly feel like indulged seniors in the art history department with all of our experiences.
Heather writes, “Our first stop was in the cellar of a Jesuit monastery that now houses the archaeology museum and a collection of Pre-Columbian ceramics from before the arrival of the Portuguese in Brazil. If yesterday was Megan’s forte, than today was definitely mine. To see so many different pieces from Brazil’s past was certainly a peek into what I enjoy so much about Pre-Columbian cultures. I was pleasantly surprised to find zoomorphic ceramics from the Wari, and was even more excited about a particular piece adorned with clay-fired frogs. The museum held a certain appeal in old-world charm, the vaulted like ceilings made of red stone, and the floors uneven brick.”
The museum was poorly lit, but provided for great photos with the flash, rather than a finicky half-lighting that are never very clear in photos. Equally, the granite, sand and whale oiled ceiling was incredibly unique and provided an unconventional appeal.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
After the museum we made our way to the ferry for a fifty-minute ride to Itaparica. We were supposed to have embarked on the ten thirty ferry, but our bus was too big, thus we found ourselves waiting for the eleven o’clock crossing. At last we were happy to be standing on the upper deck of the ferry taking some incredible pictures of the MV Explorer with the city as a backdrop. I have found it very interesting that Brazil is so cool. There is always a wonderful breeze and though I have found myself hot at times during the noon hours, it has been pleasantly cool at night and quite breezy during the day.
Megan writes, “We left the museum for the ferry to Itaparica Island, waiting about an hour for the larger ferry to arrive, as even the mini tour bus was unable to fit on the ten-thirty departure. We went to the top deck of the ferry, able to see our ship and the Salvador coast touched by the first rays of the young sun as she made her ascent. The captain invited the eight of us that were there at the time to the bridge, which seemed unusual, however fascinating. In the bridge the meandering path of the wind billowed through the deck as we watched our approach over fifty minutes to the island. The captain had family in the United States and it certainly provided more of a panorama of the beautiful island as we approached, rather than the filthy seats and over crowded passenger area.”
As we drove through Itaparica Island for an almost two hour ride I could not believe the beautiful scenery. Stunning broad vistas of palm speckled green hills rolling off into the distance and bamboo lined streets gave the island a feel of being lost in paradise. Certainly this was further improved by the appearance of the sea in the distance and hibiscus flowers popping up from their sleep. I would have to describe the island as neglected with care. Plants are overgrown and buildings aged, but everything seems to have a place and meaning. We passed a palm plantation that specialized in small red coconuts used in the local cuisine and it was so impressive – palms spaced out as far as the eye could see with their waving fronds and leaf covered trunks.
Megan writes, “Once on the island we made our way in the tour bus on a heavily cratered highway. You would think asteroids had showered the tiny islands only thoroughfare as we bounced, shook and teetered to every swerve. The island, covered in lush vegetation so thick and green that it would be easy to surmise that even the root systems and limbs reached every one of the seven thousand kilometers of coastline. Can you imagine?”
After a very pleasant, although long ride, we arrived in Maragogipinho were there is a traditional village rich in the ceramic traditions. We were told that this is the only colony in Brazil that has such an elaborate and talented trade in ceramics, though there are maybe two or three of lesser craftsmanship. It was almost as if the appearance of our bus prompted every child in town to make an appearance. They found us fascinating. We walked amongst the small palm covered structures, stepping carefully around broken fragments of some discarded ceramic and into the cool shade of the shops. There were so many amazing pieces I found it hard to decide what to buy, and prices were cheap, too cheap I think for the beautiful work.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
Palm trees sprouted from hills, ravines and beaches. The knolls looking like pincushions specked with the lofty palms. We passed dende plantations, their palms with their small red coconuts, where row upon row upon row of the trees were laid out like a patchwork quilt.
After an hour and a half we reached Maragogipinho. Children ran alongside the bus as we approached, some with book bags from their hours at school. The smell was dreamlike, that is to say, I felt like an October morning when the warm, spicy smell of mulled cider, chimney smoke and cold air greets you in the morning. The only inconsistency to my imaginary wanderings – the sun-drenched paths, scorching sun, and trees still clutching their leaves, fingers clinging to their emerald beauty.
Heather writes, “The town was situated on a small river, with quaint little boats lining the bank, rocking in the gentle current. The kids followed us everywhere, though we could only smile because they spoke Portuguese. We spent some time walking around and visiting the various shops before making a purchase and found the village a very welcoming place.”
Inside shacks and lean-tos created from wooden sticks, kilns and ranks of ceramic creations as far as the eye could see. Each dwelling the same. We spent an hour and a half there, walking the small paths, talking amongst each other, enjoying the sunlight and time to unwind. One girl bought some of the children lollipops and I found myself regretting that I had not brought jolly ranchers. I never thought that the ceramics production would be right in the village, the whole area dedicated to its manufacture with so many children. In the future I will probably try to always pack a little bit of jolly ranchers for such surprises. They follow you around with wandering eyes, pointing and speaking in a language unknown to you. But they seem so happy.
Heather writes, “The people are so friendly though we have no means of understanding each other. Megan and I found it fun and difficult to purchase some of their wares, shaking our heads yes and no, and holding our fingers up to show that we want four of something. Eventually we managed and paid in US dollars, though change was another thing altogether, but that too worked out. An older man working at the pottery wheel, his hands wet with clay, seemed to be having a conversation with us. I caught the words for difficult and mathemathics, but we, him as well as us, had to shake our heads and smile, before we said, “dificile, ingles, si.” In the end an, “obrigado” did the trick than any other word could do and we left with our handmade crafts. They have such talent and I am very pleased with what we bought.”
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
Though we have no common means of communication I think that some special meaning was conveyed to these people than mere words could say. I felt as if a whole conversation, separate from the verbal one of smiles and fragmented words in broken Spanish and English, was being held in the way we talked and moved our hands and looked at each other – a respect gained through simple acknowledgement of the other and shared humor as we each thought, “what are they saying?”
Megan writes, “I made several purchases; dollars were accepted which seems to be the case at any market. As the man only spoke Portuguese and Heather and I only English it was quite an adventure. One of the girls with us had a conversion chart for currency and he pointed out the total in reals and we paid in the dollar equivalent. Our change was in the local currency, which is perfect. He did have a difficult time finding the right amount. It is amazing what people are able to accomplish even without speaking the same language.”
It was a very relaxing and enlightening trip; the kids waving to us as we drove off and made our way back to the ship. It has been another very long day and I look forward to resting some tomorrow around the ship before our evening excursion, Bahia by night. Boa noite, or goodnight from Salvador da Bahia.
Megan writes, “We headed back, traversing the same route and returned to the ship around five thirty. Just in time for dinner we had our first dessert, a chocolate brownie and are going to purchase a calling card, shower, work on our first papers and go to sleep.”
September 14, 2005
Itaparica Island and Maragogipinho
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
A beautiful morning in Bahia with a gentle breeze sweeping through the port terminal is a welcome sign of what the day will bring. With curly hair, diffused for the first time, around eight thirty we departed for our field directed practicum under our anthropology professor Willie Smyth. There were only fourteen participants, which is quite a change from the overly large tours and boisterous crowd.
Heather writes, “Today was the first day since the beginning of the voyage that we wore our hair curly and I definitely think we threw some people off. At eight thirty we made our way by bus back up to the old district in the upper city and Pelourinho. Even in the morning hours Brazil evokes a certain charm. The city still holds a subdued whisper of a bygone era with small reminders of the modern day like the internet café squeezed between a colonial church and a lanchonete, which is the Portuguese spelling of a Brazilian fast food joint.”
Back at the same museum, only in the cellar, we were given a grand tour of the Archaeology collection of ceramics from the region. Again, I watched amazed while the expert spoke Portuguese, our tour guide translating, and he touching and holding the pieces that are more than five hundred years old. Photography was permitted and it was Heather’s turn in the limelight, as she found herself face-to-face with Wari ceramics, zoomorphs with frogs. I felt so glad that both of us have seen things in Brazil relating to our studies. Returning to Maryland we will most assuredly feel like indulged seniors in the art history department with all of our experiences.
Heather writes, “Our first stop was in the cellar of a Jesuit monastery that now houses the archaeology museum and a collection of Pre-Columbian ceramics from before the arrival of the Portuguese in Brazil. If yesterday was Megan’s forte, than today was definitely mine. To see so many different pieces from Brazil’s past was certainly a peek into what I enjoy so much about Pre-Columbian cultures. I was pleasantly surprised to find zoomorphic ceramics from the Wari, and was even more excited about a particular piece adorned with clay-fired frogs. The museum held a certain appeal in old-world charm, the vaulted like ceilings made of red stone, and the floors uneven brick.”
The museum was poorly lit, but provided for great photos with the flash, rather than a finicky half-lighting that are never very clear in photos. Equally, the granite, sand and whale oiled ceiling was incredibly unique and provided an unconventional appeal.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
After the museum we made our way to the ferry for a fifty-minute ride to Itaparica. We were supposed to have embarked on the ten thirty ferry, but our bus was too big, thus we found ourselves waiting for the eleven o’clock crossing. At last we were happy to be standing on the upper deck of the ferry taking some incredible pictures of the MV Explorer with the city as a backdrop. I have found it very interesting that Brazil is so cool. There is always a wonderful breeze and though I have found myself hot at times during the noon hours, it has been pleasantly cool at night and quite breezy during the day.
Megan writes, “We left the museum for the ferry to Itaparica Island, waiting about an hour for the larger ferry to arrive, as even the mini tour bus was unable to fit on the ten-thirty departure. We went to the top deck of the ferry, able to see our ship and the Salvador coast touched by the first rays of the young sun as she made her ascent. The captain invited the eight of us that were there at the time to the bridge, which seemed unusual, however fascinating. In the bridge the meandering path of the wind billowed through the deck as we watched our approach over fifty minutes to the island. The captain had family in the United States and it certainly provided more of a panorama of the beautiful island as we approached, rather than the filthy seats and over crowded passenger area.”
As we drove through Itaparica Island for an almost two hour ride I could not believe the beautiful scenery. Stunning broad vistas of palm speckled green hills rolling off into the distance and bamboo lined streets gave the island a feel of being lost in paradise. Certainly this was further improved by the appearance of the sea in the distance and hibiscus flowers popping up from their sleep. I would have to describe the island as neglected with care. Plants are overgrown and buildings aged, but everything seems to have a place and meaning. We passed a palm plantation that specialized in small red coconuts used in the local cuisine and it was so impressive – palms spaced out as far as the eye could see with their waving fronds and leaf covered trunks.
Megan writes, “Once on the island we made our way in the tour bus on a heavily cratered highway. You would think asteroids had showered the tiny islands only thoroughfare as we bounced, shook and teetered to every swerve. The island, covered in lush vegetation so thick and green that it would be easy to surmise that even the root systems and limbs reached every one of the seven thousand kilometers of coastline. Can you imagine?”
After a very pleasant, although long ride, we arrived in Maragogipinho were there is a traditional village rich in the ceramic traditions. We were told that this is the only colony in Brazil that has such an elaborate and talented trade in ceramics, though there are maybe two or three of lesser craftsmanship. It was almost as if the appearance of our bus prompted every child in town to make an appearance. They found us fascinating. We walked amongst the small palm covered structures, stepping carefully around broken fragments of some discarded ceramic and into the cool shade of the shops. There were so many amazing pieces I found it hard to decide what to buy, and prices were cheap, too cheap I think for the beautiful work.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
Palm trees sprouted from hills, ravines and beaches. The knolls looking like pincushions specked with the lofty palms. We passed dende plantations, their palms with their small red coconuts, where row upon row upon row of the trees were laid out like a patchwork quilt.
After an hour and a half we reached Maragogipinho. Children ran alongside the bus as we approached, some with book bags from their hours at school. The smell was dreamlike, that is to say, I felt like an October morning when the warm, spicy smell of mulled cider, chimney smoke and cold air greets you in the morning. The only inconsistency to my imaginary wanderings – the sun-drenched paths, scorching sun, and trees still clutching their leaves, fingers clinging to their emerald beauty.
Heather writes, “The town was situated on a small river, with quaint little boats lining the bank, rocking in the gentle current. The kids followed us everywhere, though we could only smile because they spoke Portuguese. We spent some time walking around and visiting the various shops before making a purchase and found the village a very welcoming place.”
Inside shacks and lean-tos created from wooden sticks, kilns and ranks of ceramic creations as far as the eye could see. Each dwelling the same. We spent an hour and a half there, walking the small paths, talking amongst each other, enjoying the sunlight and time to unwind. One girl bought some of the children lollipops and I found myself regretting that I had not brought jolly ranchers. I never thought that the ceramics production would be right in the village, the whole area dedicated to its manufacture with so many children. In the future I will probably try to always pack a little bit of jolly ranchers for such surprises. They follow you around with wandering eyes, pointing and speaking in a language unknown to you. But they seem so happy.
Heather writes, “The people are so friendly though we have no means of understanding each other. Megan and I found it fun and difficult to purchase some of their wares, shaking our heads yes and no, and holding our fingers up to show that we want four of something. Eventually we managed and paid in US dollars, though change was another thing altogether, but that too worked out. An older man working at the pottery wheel, his hands wet with clay, seemed to be having a conversation with us. I caught the words for difficult and mathemathics, but we, him as well as us, had to shake our heads and smile, before we said, “dificile, ingles, si.” In the end an, “obrigado” did the trick than any other word could do and we left with our handmade crafts. They have such talent and I am very pleased with what we bought.”
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
Though we have no common means of communication I think that some special meaning was conveyed to these people than mere words could say. I felt as if a whole conversation, separate from the verbal one of smiles and fragmented words in broken Spanish and English, was being held in the way we talked and moved our hands and looked at each other – a respect gained through simple acknowledgement of the other and shared humor as we each thought, “what are they saying?”
Megan writes, “I made several purchases; dollars were accepted which seems to be the case at any market. As the man only spoke Portuguese and Heather and I only English it was quite an adventure. One of the girls with us had a conversion chart for currency and he pointed out the total in reals and we paid in the dollar equivalent. Our change was in the local currency, which is perfect. He did have a difficult time finding the right amount. It is amazing what people are able to accomplish even without speaking the same language.”
It was a very relaxing and enlightening trip; the kids waving to us as we drove off and made our way back to the ship. It has been another very long day and I look forward to resting some tomorrow around the ship before our evening excursion, Bahia by night. Boa noite, or goodnight from Salvador da Bahia.
Megan writes, “We headed back, traversing the same route and returned to the ship around five thirty. Just in time for dinner we had our first dessert, a chocolate brownie and are going to purchase a calling card, shower, work on our first papers and go to sleep.”
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
A Very Special Day
September 13, 2005
Salvador da Bahia – At Last
We have arrived!! What more is there to say, but adrenaline and excitement fill me as I look out my porthole to the glare of the sun on the water, and the city, like a miniature New York skyline, draped over the tropical landscape.
Heather writes, “Wow! My first impression of Brazil as I awoke this morning was as if I were looking at the New York skyline from a distance. The sun was still rising, painting a backdrop of watercolors behind the black silhouette of the skyscrapers. What a site! Of course every city has a certain charm from a distance that is lost when you are only mere feet away. Yes, it has blackened buildings, and crumbling walls, but there are also little gems of colonial architecture spread throughout the city like the raisins in the cinnamon bread I eat for breakfast. Every once in a while something sweet and surprising bursts into view full of color and wonder. It is strange to compare the various places I have been, where most have nestled houses on the hills. It is different here, very green, and the houses are perched like regal thrones at the crest of the rising knolls.”
The blue envelope I placed on my nightstand last night greeted me this morning with warm wishes. From Mom and Dad, a “plan-ahead” that was probably the best idea for this trip – bringing cards from home with marked dates to open – was the cutest card I have ever seen. A clear, frosted bottle complete with impervious cork, and a scroll of parchment. It is now hanging on my wall by means of a magnet and I could not have wished for a more perfect card here below the equator. Perhaps I could find myself stranding on some small beach and send it home via Atlantic current, then again it is made of paper so I have some skepticism as to whether it would make it in one piece. Most likely it would be no more than fleshy pulp minced by the breakers of the open sea.
Heather writes, “I opened my second card of the voyage this morning and I think it is perhaps the cutest card I have ever seen and certainly very appropriate. The message in a bottle was so special and it made me feel as if perhaps it had floated on the tides all the way from mom and dad. It really does look like a glass bottle with a yellowed piece of parchment inside. Thanks for making me smile, and of course I will put the one-dollar to good use – postage is exactly one dollar or two and a half reals so you bought the postage for your postcard. Obrigado. That’s thank you, for the cute card and the email that we received this morning.”
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
We went up to the seventh deck to take some pictures this morning and could not help noticing the blue of the water, which incidentally was very calm, and the beautiful little harbor with various makes of boats, of course there were catamarans. We have dressed today in our lightest clothes, khaki shorts and white t-shirts in observance of Candomble rituals, which we will attend later this afternoon.
I was surprised to find one of the staff members dressed in complete highland garb playing a bagpipe on the seventh deck. I do not know if there is some ritual behind this, but it was extremely difficult not to cry. It was eerie and beautiful with the sun bleaching the deck in yellow light and diffused warmth. I have thought about today for several days now, knowing that it was the four-month anniversary of Nana’s passing and hearing those bagpipes, the Highland Cathedral, felt almost like homage to her and her memory. I felt as if she were standing right there with me and was glad of the small weight around my neck, and over my heart that is her soul and love.
Megan writes, “We took the opportunity to see the panorama of Brazil on the open deck. After several photos of the marina, skyline and us, of course, a bagpiper dressed in tartan garb began meandering about the forward deck to the rhythm of Scottish tunes. I had heard a bagpiper on our departure from Venezuela, but had not really thought anything of it at the time. It was such a surprise to see him performing, what I assume, to be a typical and daily ritual for our arrivals in port. I couldn’t help think as I stood there consuming the images of the Brazilian coast and talking with several faculty and adult passengers that today is four months since Nana passed away and like at her funeral, a bagpiper was playing Scottish hymns. Her urn around my neck, I couldn’t help but hold back tears. Needless to say, it is the perfect beginning for our stay here in Brazil.”
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
After breakfast, and chatting with Betty and Bob we went to the computer lab to print out a letter for Ashley. We hope to be able to purchase stamps, postcards, and some envelops nearby as we have quite a few Venezuelan postcards to send home.
On a side note, I have to make such observations as they come to me; Heather and I have been fortunate enough to have wonderful passengers aboard. It always seem, not matter what trip we are on, that adult passengers offer to take a photo of us together. Again, this is just a reflection, and I am thrilled to have such superb acquaintances and friends on board who help us in our duality capture these memories. Thanks to all of you who make us smile.
After going through immigrations this morning, which is quite more detailed than Venezuela, I am ready to relax a couple hours, perhaps work on my first paper, and then head out around one o’clock for a glimpse around the port terminal and then the Afro-Brazilian and Candomble festivities at two o’clock. The officials want to see everyone face-to-face and stamp each passport at that time so imagine about seven hundred students lined up for the process. It worked well and was quite expedient. Now I can disembark.
Heather writes, “We had immigrations this morning at around ten o’clock and went through the process like a breeze. The lines were quite long, but thanks to the organization of semester at sea it was a piece of cake. We now have an official stamp in our passports from Brazil, and as I look at it I wonder at the haphazardness with which the stamps are placed – usually in any open space and in no order with the visas and such.”
Heather and I enjoyed lunch on the back deck with an adult passenger. We enjoyed the comfort of the outdoors and eating outside for the first time; Salvador feet away over the railing and students disembarking for their travels.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
We had lunch after the diplomatic briefing and lounged around the ship for about an hour before our scheduled field program. Megan and I had lunch outside on the deck and it was a nice treat to sit in the sun, bask in the Brazilian rays, and relax. We looked out the window in our cabin to see several Brazilian women in traditional dress welcoming the students to Salvador. They were also distributing ribbons, which hopefully they will still be there when we disembark at one thirty. The ribbons have a special meaning as the wearer is supposed to make a wish. When the ribbon falls off and breaks free the wish comes true.
We left the ship around one thirty for our Afro-Brazilian Museum visit and Candomble House. After boarding the tour bus we made our way into the upper city and Pelourinho. The streets were very narrow and quite steep, barely able to squeeze two buses together. The Afro-Brazilian Museum was located in the center of Pelourinho around a beautiful little square bustling with vendors. I think what I like most about Brazil is how the old meets the new. It took me all day to think about what is so appealing about the city, and I think it would have to be that it feels very much like some tropical exotic place, overgrown with palms and vines and verdant foliage of the deepest greens, spanning stone buildings, creeping up walls and peeking through cobblestones. It was almost as if I had walked into some ancient civilization that was built over with colonial architecture and forgotten for another millennia.
The Afro-Brazilian Museum had such a surprising variety of African arts that I know Megan was totally immersed in her world. Among other things they had gelede masks, akua-ba figures (my personal favorite), Asante ceremonial staffs, Ibeji figures (another favorite), and gold weights. One of the many rooms was dedicated to the Candomble orishas, which have roots in the African Yoruba culture. Carybe, an artist, sculpted the many orishas in long wooden planks. The detail was absolutely incredible. Of course there was an Ibeji piece with the twin figures and I told Megan that we should get a picture of us with it. One of the adults on the trip, who happens to be the wife of one of our professors offered to take the photo, and before we knew it Megan and I were the main attraction. I think everybody in our group snapped a shot. I bet my cheeks turned bright red, but it was so much fun. I wondered when the twin thing would start to be played up in the ports and never expected or thought about it happening in Brazil. And that was certainly not the end.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
After finally disembarking we headed with our tour group to the Afro-Brazilian museum. To my shock and utter excitement the first pieces visible were gelede masks from the Yoruba. I feel like I am back in Washington D.C. making my monthly visits to the National Museum of African Art. I have never seen so many intricate, beautiful, colorful, complex gelede masks. As this museum is relaxed and not the stuffy atmosphere of many American museums, most pieces were merely displayed, no glass Vitrine. In addition, photography was widely permitted. Yes Dad, I can now show you some of my favorite masks, although Chi-wara still remains my favorite. They had a couple other masks, including Bogo, as well as Asante gold weights, Fan linguist staffs, Kuba ndop, Asante Akua-ba, Yoruba Ibeji figures, and Kuba cut-pile raffia. Never have I felt so intimate and at ease with the art.
We were lectured on the Candomble beliefs and orishas to which most of the information I had previously learned. I felt like a private tour guide among the group. Candomble is largely based in Yoruba beliefs. Here in Brazil it is combined with the Angola-Congo, Ghana, and Caboclo cultures.
Perhaps the most wonderful part of the museum was the wooden panels covering the entire third room. Each was a carving of an orisha like Yemanja (yes I was incorrect as to the spelling in a previous blog), Ogun, Shango/Xango, Ibeji, and many many more. I loved the detailed of these pieces and took lots of pictures. The Ibeji panel was particularly fabulous and after an adult passenger inquired if we wanted our picture with the artwork, we found ourselves becoming part of the museum collection. No sooner had she snapped a photo than every other person on the tour visit began taking his or her own shots. I had no idea Ibeji was so largely recognized and celebrated outside Africa. If I really do write my undergraduate honors thesis on some element of these special figures, what wonderful material and insight I will be able to contribute from first hand experiences.
Heather writes, “After the museum we walked down, literally because you could have fallen down it was so steep, the cobbled road to the bus. I think I could have bought one of everything as we passed the shops. There were some really beautiful paintings of Pelourinho that I think would look absolutely wonderful in the new kitchen because they are so bright and animated. I hope that we see some at the craft market in a couple of days, though I know that other students have mentioned that they are everywhere.”
After leaving the museum we walked through Pelourinho, the many crafts and paintings reminding me of Caribbean markets we have visited. Some of the paintings were really beautiful and I might have a weak moment when I go to the Mercado Modelo in a couple days. The streets we steep and cobbled, actually quite bumpy, but with a special charm.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
I did not get a ribbon today for my wrist but I know that I got something much better. Shortly after boarding the bus we arrived at the Candomble House, small brightly painted buildings spread out amongst leafy growth and towering trees. It is so green here. The ground was covered in sand and a small group of boys were playing soccer.
Megan writes, “We boarded the tour bus and headed to the Candomble house. Never would I have been prepared for this element of the visit. At first I was amazed at the community within the Candomble, boys playing soccer, women working on textiles, and the priestess welcoming us to her house. The grounds were covered in sand and scattered with colorful leaves from the fertile and lush tropical vegetation. Being able to the see the place they perform, the houses dedicated to orishas, and the school where the children go was the most personal experience I have had thus far. Two boys sang a song to Yemanja, their voices soft and childlike, chanting. We clapped and they anxiously waited for photos of them to be taken so they could look at themselves in the tiny screens.”
Finally, the highlight of the whole trip. Many of us bought beaded necklaces symbolic of our personal orisha, and of course Megan and I are the Ibeji or twin deities. It is actually ironic that the necklace I would have chosen is the one that represents the twins. One of the women at the Candomble House saw us and before we knew it there were exclamations of joy at our appearance. September, we were told by the tour guide, is the month of the twins in Candomble culture, especially the twenty-seventh of the month. The Candomble priestess began blessing the necklaces that we had bought and it felt so much like something you read about in books or see in movies.
Megan writes, “Before leaving this amazing experience we were able to purchase beaded necklaces and even though we have not had the opportunity to exchange currency, dollars were accepted. The strands of beads come in the colors attributed to the various orishas, green for Yemanja and so on. Ibeji happens to be multiple colors and I would have to assume, my best educated guess, that as Ibeji is not actually an orisha it receives all colors. Ibeji are actually spirits governed by Shango/Xango (multiple spellings here) and as such can either be advantageous or detrimental to a community. A village facing drought, high infant mortality, or some other disaster, would pay respect to Xango. Twins in the community are worshipped and given special priority to help as positive reinforcement. As spirits they can appeal to the orishas to aid the village.”
She sat on a stonewall, low to the ground with her feet in the sand. The priestess mashed green leaves from a nearby plant with water in a stone bowl and in went our necklaces. Then she stood, chanting in Yoruba, and raised the bowl to the right, then center, then left. Placing the slate colored stone bowl back on the sandy earth she pulled the necklaces from their greenish brew and held them up to the sky invoking the name of the Ibeji. Megan went first, bowing to the priestess who put the beads on her own head before placing them on Megan’s head to evoke the ashe, or power. Still chanting she lay the beads delicately around Megan’s neck and lowered her forehead to meet her own.
Megan writes, “One of the women pointed out to the high priestess that we were twins and she performed a special blessing on the necklaces. She performed this for several individuals, but ours was inherently, and uniquely exceptional. Mixing the beads in a bowl with plants and green liquid, and singing in the Yoruba tongue, she raised the chains to the sky and touched them to our forehead.”
Then it was my turn and I could not help but feel some special power in her words as I heard the word Ibeji. It felt so special and intimate in a way I don’t think I could ever truly describe. I think it is times like this that I truly am so grateful to be a twin and have the best sister that anyone could ever wish for. Once she finished the ritual with me she opened up her arms to both of us and lowered our heads. Many of the other students and adults received the blessing as well, but Megan and I were greeted with an additional ceremony. She put her left hand on my shoulder, her right on Megan’s and chanted to the orishas as all three of us stood in a small circle closed to outsiders. When I think about it now, I can’t help but feel as if we were given such a wonderful gift.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
It was approaching dusk and in the light of the waning sun and kiss of darkness, we could see in the shadows many of the members of the community smiling, their eyes beaming. On a side note, the necklaces were of course covered in green plant juice and incidentally made quite a mural on our white Aruba t-shirts. We wore this top because it was the closest apparel we had, with khakis shorts, in following with the Candomble belief. On top of that, it had just come back from the cleaners. Ironically, I really don’t care. And yes, we did get the rest of our laundry back this morning.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
Megan had asked Bob to take some pictures on our camera and he did such a great job getting some shots of the priestess conducting the ceremony. Mom and dad, I can’t wait to show you the pictures, and I have to say that this has been the best experience of the trip thus far. I think it will be hard to beat, but there are still so many ports left.
It is time for bed and tomorrow is another long day to Itaparica Island for the Traditional Ceramics directed practicum with our Anthropology professor. It should be a lot of fun. I haven’t said this in my journal yet, but I love you all and miss you.
One last thing, mom, we have a very special necklace for you. We could never forget you and had the priestess bless a necklace for our best friend.
Megan writes, “Today has been amazing and monumental. I have thought about Nana, wearing my urn under my t-shirt, and I have thought about home. The nights are cool and comfortable and I am ready for sleep.”
Salvador da Bahia – At Last
We have arrived!! What more is there to say, but adrenaline and excitement fill me as I look out my porthole to the glare of the sun on the water, and the city, like a miniature New York skyline, draped over the tropical landscape.
Heather writes, “Wow! My first impression of Brazil as I awoke this morning was as if I were looking at the New York skyline from a distance. The sun was still rising, painting a backdrop of watercolors behind the black silhouette of the skyscrapers. What a site! Of course every city has a certain charm from a distance that is lost when you are only mere feet away. Yes, it has blackened buildings, and crumbling walls, but there are also little gems of colonial architecture spread throughout the city like the raisins in the cinnamon bread I eat for breakfast. Every once in a while something sweet and surprising bursts into view full of color and wonder. It is strange to compare the various places I have been, where most have nestled houses on the hills. It is different here, very green, and the houses are perched like regal thrones at the crest of the rising knolls.”
The blue envelope I placed on my nightstand last night greeted me this morning with warm wishes. From Mom and Dad, a “plan-ahead” that was probably the best idea for this trip – bringing cards from home with marked dates to open – was the cutest card I have ever seen. A clear, frosted bottle complete with impervious cork, and a scroll of parchment. It is now hanging on my wall by means of a magnet and I could not have wished for a more perfect card here below the equator. Perhaps I could find myself stranding on some small beach and send it home via Atlantic current, then again it is made of paper so I have some skepticism as to whether it would make it in one piece. Most likely it would be no more than fleshy pulp minced by the breakers of the open sea.
Heather writes, “I opened my second card of the voyage this morning and I think it is perhaps the cutest card I have ever seen and certainly very appropriate. The message in a bottle was so special and it made me feel as if perhaps it had floated on the tides all the way from mom and dad. It really does look like a glass bottle with a yellowed piece of parchment inside. Thanks for making me smile, and of course I will put the one-dollar to good use – postage is exactly one dollar or two and a half reals so you bought the postage for your postcard. Obrigado. That’s thank you, for the cute card and the email that we received this morning.”
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
We went up to the seventh deck to take some pictures this morning and could not help noticing the blue of the water, which incidentally was very calm, and the beautiful little harbor with various makes of boats, of course there were catamarans. We have dressed today in our lightest clothes, khaki shorts and white t-shirts in observance of Candomble rituals, which we will attend later this afternoon.
I was surprised to find one of the staff members dressed in complete highland garb playing a bagpipe on the seventh deck. I do not know if there is some ritual behind this, but it was extremely difficult not to cry. It was eerie and beautiful with the sun bleaching the deck in yellow light and diffused warmth. I have thought about today for several days now, knowing that it was the four-month anniversary of Nana’s passing and hearing those bagpipes, the Highland Cathedral, felt almost like homage to her and her memory. I felt as if she were standing right there with me and was glad of the small weight around my neck, and over my heart that is her soul and love.
Megan writes, “We took the opportunity to see the panorama of Brazil on the open deck. After several photos of the marina, skyline and us, of course, a bagpiper dressed in tartan garb began meandering about the forward deck to the rhythm of Scottish tunes. I had heard a bagpiper on our departure from Venezuela, but had not really thought anything of it at the time. It was such a surprise to see him performing, what I assume, to be a typical and daily ritual for our arrivals in port. I couldn’t help think as I stood there consuming the images of the Brazilian coast and talking with several faculty and adult passengers that today is four months since Nana passed away and like at her funeral, a bagpiper was playing Scottish hymns. Her urn around my neck, I couldn’t help but hold back tears. Needless to say, it is the perfect beginning for our stay here in Brazil.”
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
After breakfast, and chatting with Betty and Bob we went to the computer lab to print out a letter for Ashley. We hope to be able to purchase stamps, postcards, and some envelops nearby as we have quite a few Venezuelan postcards to send home.
On a side note, I have to make such observations as they come to me; Heather and I have been fortunate enough to have wonderful passengers aboard. It always seem, not matter what trip we are on, that adult passengers offer to take a photo of us together. Again, this is just a reflection, and I am thrilled to have such superb acquaintances and friends on board who help us in our duality capture these memories. Thanks to all of you who make us smile.
After going through immigrations this morning, which is quite more detailed than Venezuela, I am ready to relax a couple hours, perhaps work on my first paper, and then head out around one o’clock for a glimpse around the port terminal and then the Afro-Brazilian and Candomble festivities at two o’clock. The officials want to see everyone face-to-face and stamp each passport at that time so imagine about seven hundred students lined up for the process. It worked well and was quite expedient. Now I can disembark.
Heather writes, “We had immigrations this morning at around ten o’clock and went through the process like a breeze. The lines were quite long, but thanks to the organization of semester at sea it was a piece of cake. We now have an official stamp in our passports from Brazil, and as I look at it I wonder at the haphazardness with which the stamps are placed – usually in any open space and in no order with the visas and such.”
Heather and I enjoyed lunch on the back deck with an adult passenger. We enjoyed the comfort of the outdoors and eating outside for the first time; Salvador feet away over the railing and students disembarking for their travels.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
We had lunch after the diplomatic briefing and lounged around the ship for about an hour before our scheduled field program. Megan and I had lunch outside on the deck and it was a nice treat to sit in the sun, bask in the Brazilian rays, and relax. We looked out the window in our cabin to see several Brazilian women in traditional dress welcoming the students to Salvador. They were also distributing ribbons, which hopefully they will still be there when we disembark at one thirty. The ribbons have a special meaning as the wearer is supposed to make a wish. When the ribbon falls off and breaks free the wish comes true.
We left the ship around one thirty for our Afro-Brazilian Museum visit and Candomble House. After boarding the tour bus we made our way into the upper city and Pelourinho. The streets were very narrow and quite steep, barely able to squeeze two buses together. The Afro-Brazilian Museum was located in the center of Pelourinho around a beautiful little square bustling with vendors. I think what I like most about Brazil is how the old meets the new. It took me all day to think about what is so appealing about the city, and I think it would have to be that it feels very much like some tropical exotic place, overgrown with palms and vines and verdant foliage of the deepest greens, spanning stone buildings, creeping up walls and peeking through cobblestones. It was almost as if I had walked into some ancient civilization that was built over with colonial architecture and forgotten for another millennia.
The Afro-Brazilian Museum had such a surprising variety of African arts that I know Megan was totally immersed in her world. Among other things they had gelede masks, akua-ba figures (my personal favorite), Asante ceremonial staffs, Ibeji figures (another favorite), and gold weights. One of the many rooms was dedicated to the Candomble orishas, which have roots in the African Yoruba culture. Carybe, an artist, sculpted the many orishas in long wooden planks. The detail was absolutely incredible. Of course there was an Ibeji piece with the twin figures and I told Megan that we should get a picture of us with it. One of the adults on the trip, who happens to be the wife of one of our professors offered to take the photo, and before we knew it Megan and I were the main attraction. I think everybody in our group snapped a shot. I bet my cheeks turned bright red, but it was so much fun. I wondered when the twin thing would start to be played up in the ports and never expected or thought about it happening in Brazil. And that was certainly not the end.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
After finally disembarking we headed with our tour group to the Afro-Brazilian museum. To my shock and utter excitement the first pieces visible were gelede masks from the Yoruba. I feel like I am back in Washington D.C. making my monthly visits to the National Museum of African Art. I have never seen so many intricate, beautiful, colorful, complex gelede masks. As this museum is relaxed and not the stuffy atmosphere of many American museums, most pieces were merely displayed, no glass Vitrine. In addition, photography was widely permitted. Yes Dad, I can now show you some of my favorite masks, although Chi-wara still remains my favorite. They had a couple other masks, including Bogo, as well as Asante gold weights, Fan linguist staffs, Kuba ndop, Asante Akua-ba, Yoruba Ibeji figures, and Kuba cut-pile raffia. Never have I felt so intimate and at ease with the art.
We were lectured on the Candomble beliefs and orishas to which most of the information I had previously learned. I felt like a private tour guide among the group. Candomble is largely based in Yoruba beliefs. Here in Brazil it is combined with the Angola-Congo, Ghana, and Caboclo cultures.
Perhaps the most wonderful part of the museum was the wooden panels covering the entire third room. Each was a carving of an orisha like Yemanja (yes I was incorrect as to the spelling in a previous blog), Ogun, Shango/Xango, Ibeji, and many many more. I loved the detailed of these pieces and took lots of pictures. The Ibeji panel was particularly fabulous and after an adult passenger inquired if we wanted our picture with the artwork, we found ourselves becoming part of the museum collection. No sooner had she snapped a photo than every other person on the tour visit began taking his or her own shots. I had no idea Ibeji was so largely recognized and celebrated outside Africa. If I really do write my undergraduate honors thesis on some element of these special figures, what wonderful material and insight I will be able to contribute from first hand experiences.
Heather writes, “After the museum we walked down, literally because you could have fallen down it was so steep, the cobbled road to the bus. I think I could have bought one of everything as we passed the shops. There were some really beautiful paintings of Pelourinho that I think would look absolutely wonderful in the new kitchen because they are so bright and animated. I hope that we see some at the craft market in a couple of days, though I know that other students have mentioned that they are everywhere.”
After leaving the museum we walked through Pelourinho, the many crafts and paintings reminding me of Caribbean markets we have visited. Some of the paintings were really beautiful and I might have a weak moment when I go to the Mercado Modelo in a couple days. The streets we steep and cobbled, actually quite bumpy, but with a special charm.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
I did not get a ribbon today for my wrist but I know that I got something much better. Shortly after boarding the bus we arrived at the Candomble House, small brightly painted buildings spread out amongst leafy growth and towering trees. It is so green here. The ground was covered in sand and a small group of boys were playing soccer.
Megan writes, “We boarded the tour bus and headed to the Candomble house. Never would I have been prepared for this element of the visit. At first I was amazed at the community within the Candomble, boys playing soccer, women working on textiles, and the priestess welcoming us to her house. The grounds were covered in sand and scattered with colorful leaves from the fertile and lush tropical vegetation. Being able to the see the place they perform, the houses dedicated to orishas, and the school where the children go was the most personal experience I have had thus far. Two boys sang a song to Yemanja, their voices soft and childlike, chanting. We clapped and they anxiously waited for photos of them to be taken so they could look at themselves in the tiny screens.”
Finally, the highlight of the whole trip. Many of us bought beaded necklaces symbolic of our personal orisha, and of course Megan and I are the Ibeji or twin deities. It is actually ironic that the necklace I would have chosen is the one that represents the twins. One of the women at the Candomble House saw us and before we knew it there were exclamations of joy at our appearance. September, we were told by the tour guide, is the month of the twins in Candomble culture, especially the twenty-seventh of the month. The Candomble priestess began blessing the necklaces that we had bought and it felt so much like something you read about in books or see in movies.
Megan writes, “Before leaving this amazing experience we were able to purchase beaded necklaces and even though we have not had the opportunity to exchange currency, dollars were accepted. The strands of beads come in the colors attributed to the various orishas, green for Yemanja and so on. Ibeji happens to be multiple colors and I would have to assume, my best educated guess, that as Ibeji is not actually an orisha it receives all colors. Ibeji are actually spirits governed by Shango/Xango (multiple spellings here) and as such can either be advantageous or detrimental to a community. A village facing drought, high infant mortality, or some other disaster, would pay respect to Xango. Twins in the community are worshipped and given special priority to help as positive reinforcement. As spirits they can appeal to the orishas to aid the village.”
She sat on a stonewall, low to the ground with her feet in the sand. The priestess mashed green leaves from a nearby plant with water in a stone bowl and in went our necklaces. Then she stood, chanting in Yoruba, and raised the bowl to the right, then center, then left. Placing the slate colored stone bowl back on the sandy earth she pulled the necklaces from their greenish brew and held them up to the sky invoking the name of the Ibeji. Megan went first, bowing to the priestess who put the beads on her own head before placing them on Megan’s head to evoke the ashe, or power. Still chanting she lay the beads delicately around Megan’s neck and lowered her forehead to meet her own.
Megan writes, “One of the women pointed out to the high priestess that we were twins and she performed a special blessing on the necklaces. She performed this for several individuals, but ours was inherently, and uniquely exceptional. Mixing the beads in a bowl with plants and green liquid, and singing in the Yoruba tongue, she raised the chains to the sky and touched them to our forehead.”
Then it was my turn and I could not help but feel some special power in her words as I heard the word Ibeji. It felt so special and intimate in a way I don’t think I could ever truly describe. I think it is times like this that I truly am so grateful to be a twin and have the best sister that anyone could ever wish for. Once she finished the ritual with me she opened up her arms to both of us and lowered our heads. Many of the other students and adults received the blessing as well, but Megan and I were greeted with an additional ceremony. She put her left hand on my shoulder, her right on Megan’s and chanted to the orishas as all three of us stood in a small circle closed to outsiders. When I think about it now, I can’t help but feel as if we were given such a wonderful gift.
Excerpt from Megan’s Journal:
It was approaching dusk and in the light of the waning sun and kiss of darkness, we could see in the shadows many of the members of the community smiling, their eyes beaming. On a side note, the necklaces were of course covered in green plant juice and incidentally made quite a mural on our white Aruba t-shirts. We wore this top because it was the closest apparel we had, with khakis shorts, in following with the Candomble belief. On top of that, it had just come back from the cleaners. Ironically, I really don’t care. And yes, we did get the rest of our laundry back this morning.
Excerpt from Heather’s Journal:
Megan had asked Bob to take some pictures on our camera and he did such a great job getting some shots of the priestess conducting the ceremony. Mom and dad, I can’t wait to show you the pictures, and I have to say that this has been the best experience of the trip thus far. I think it will be hard to beat, but there are still so many ports left.
It is time for bed and tomorrow is another long day to Itaparica Island for the Traditional Ceramics directed practicum with our Anthropology professor. It should be a lot of fun. I haven’t said this in my journal yet, but I love you all and miss you.
One last thing, mom, we have a very special necklace for you. We could never forget you and had the priestess bless a necklace for our best friend.
Megan writes, “Today has been amazing and monumental. I have thought about Nana, wearing my urn under my t-shirt, and I have thought about home. The nights are cool and comfortable and I am ready for sleep.”
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