Cabin 2014

What you are about to read is something I just wrote down in my journal about 10 minutes ago. It is pure emotion and I have no idea if it makes any sense, but if you were wondering what was going through my head at 0023 hours on April 8, 2010, read on.

I still need to write about my time in Cape Town, but in the mean time, it is the third day of shipboard life between South Africa and Ghana. Yesterday I had no class and felt like spending the day in my room. I had Kelli in there with me most of the day, but I really had no desire to go out and “be” with people. I had forgotten how easy it is to have privacy at Pitt or at home, but on the ship you are always running into someone to talk to. I usually love that, but I needed a day off. So I slept in, watched TV and movies, read a lot of my book, and only ventured out of my room for a 20 minute lunch and a hot dog at 10 pm. It was much needed down time.

Today was back to normal- I ate all 3 meals in the dining hall, went to my 3 classes, even studied for my quiz in public, and went to the film festival put on by the students in the evening. Which was mostly really good. I wish I could put my observations and thoughts and experiences into videos like those—I really wish I could present my ideas in that format. It’s such an effective way to say and literally show so much in only 3 minutes. But my mind just doesn’t work that way.

Right now, I’m really missing my friends from home and school. Everyone on the ship is so incredible, but I wish everyone I care about was here with me going through everything. Mostly because they all deserve it just as much as I do, but also because I know telling people about the things I’ve done and showing pictures will never do any of it justice. And that legitimately makes me sad.

Some of the things I’m feeling feel so profound that I can’t bear to feel them without my best friends of mother or sister feeling them right there beside me. I’m scared to go back home because I know in reality, there is no going back. I will go home but it won’t look like the same home I left in January: I won’t see it through the same lens. I know that isn’t a bad thing and that whatever has changed inside of me is for the better, but a part of me is sad that I never got to say a proper goodbye to that part of my life- the part of me that was so wrapped up in my own little microcosm. I never formally parted with the side of me which didn’t know or understand the other parts of the world.

I know that spending five days in a culture doesn’t allow me to understand it, but that’s all I’ve got and I’m doing the best that I can. I know that when I go home, people will ask me how I’ve changed and I don’t know what I can say to them. How do I tell people about random strangers welcoming me into the intimate details of their lives? Showing me where they eat and telling me where their families are? How do I convey the inescapable and overwhelming atmosphere of a foreign culture which is foreign only to me because I am the one who does not belong? How do I tell people about the warmth and sunshine which radiates from a child’s smile while he jumps and climbs on me with pure love and joy, even though we cannot pronounce each other’s names?

On days like these I cannot seem to wrap my head around the things I am going through or these so-called changes which are happening inside of me. I can’t understand how I can live and sleep and breathe on this ship as my friends and I complain about annoying people or the disorganized activities office, while we are being transported around the world and then dropped off in a country and told, “Go. See. Learn.” How do I do it??

I think I’m doing a good job so far, but is a “good job” good enough? There is still so much of this earth for me to explore and know and learn from and try my best to make an impact on, and I’m drowning in the inevitable reality that I just can’t do it all. I can’t understand how the world is changing me, and I can’t understand how I am to change the world. But I suppose with four weeks left and only two more countries to go, the best I can do is to try: try to soak up as much as I can, try to leave as much of a mark as I can, and try my hardest to keep my promises that I will come back- for longer next time- to stay and really get to know the people and their lives.

As I write, my eyes are tearing up, but they aren’t tears of sadness, I don’t think they are tears of overwhelming, I believe they are tears of happiness. I am so remarkably happy to be able to go around this planet of ours and step into other’s lives even for just a second, and with just that second, have all of humanity be confirmed to me. This world is FULL of people—all with stories and backgrounds and futures and problems and celebrations—and no matter how much we try to distance ourselves from one another, we are all in the Life together. I never want a single on of these people to leave my Life.

Maybe that is what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of going home and simplifying my experiences down to one paragraph and diminishing people back down to the statistics they started out as. I’m afraid of these people ever leaving my life… because I know it is impossible to hold on to each one of them forever. And all I want to do is to hold on. Hold on tight and never, ever, let go. 

Passover at Sea

I knew when I applied to Semester at Sea Spring 2010 that if I was fortunate enough to attend the voyage, it would mean not only spending Passover away from home and family, but out of the country entirely, and most likely, the Passover Seder would occur on the ship. I have been so lucky to be on this voyage with so many wonderful and dedicated students, and I am thrilled that a good number of those students have decided to come together to form a Jewish student group. Ever since the first Friday at sea, we have been meeting regularly for Kabbalat Shabbat and eating a Shabbat meal together. It has been sporadic at times, especially when we were going through the Asian countries like they were candy! Nevertheless, we have formed a great community on the ship, and every week, anywhere between 20-35 students and faculty come together to celebrate the Sabbath together. We have spent time learning about Jewish communities (or lack thereof) in the cities we have visited so far, and I think we are in for a treat in Cape Town.

 

Anyway, ever since the voyage began, we have talked about the Passover Seder like it would be years away, and I can’t believe it has finally arrived. Weeks of planning and plenty of emails from worried parents later, we were able to pull it off! We had a sign up sheet before we arrived in Mauritius, and were ecstatic when we had to cap attendance at 120! We compiled a Haggadah from various sources, and put in food requests to the kitchen so we would have as close to a Seder meal as we could on limited resources. Last Friday, we decorated Matzah covers together and I felt like I was in 2^nd grade again, with a rainbow of Crayola markers smeared all over my fingers.

 

Tonight was the big event. People from all kinds of backgrounds came: there were the Friday Regulars, the students who came just to tell their parents they celebrated Passover like a good Jewish kid, and the students who were not Jewish, but were simply interested in attending a Seder. All things considered, I think it went pretty well! There were enough Matzah balls to go around, everyone got at least 4 cups of grape juice (think melted freeze pop), and we had two adorable kids sing the four questions. And the afikomen- oh boy- just picture 30+ twenty-somethings (and a couple of real children) searching on their hands and knees around the Deck 5 Dining Room for 20 minutes looking for a big cracker wrapped in a napkin. And the prize? 30 South African Rand… roughly four bucks. Not bad!

 

Before I knew it, the Seder was over (it was the short version) and we all left with our bellies full and ready to watch the Crew Talent Show (I’ve been looking forward to this the whole voyage)!  Who would have thought that a year ago I should have been saying “Next Year in Cape Town”?

 

Chag Pesach Sameach!

 

A Heightened Sense of Adventure

I haven’t spent too much lately on self-reflection and introspection, but I can definitively say that traveling the world has had its effects on me. As I enter the second half of my voyage, I will continue trying to pin down the ways I have changed since January, and how those changes will affect the way I live in the future. One difference is easy for me to figure out. Since coming on Semester at Sea, my attraction to spontaneity and my sense of adventure have grown tremendously. I’m not about to jump out of an airplane or anything, but I’m no longer as high strung about getting to a destination on time and making sure all goes as planned. I really have embraced the idea that it is not the destination that matters, but rather the journey. This motto has applied not only to this voyage as a whole, but really to the way I live each day in port.

 

I had two goals in Mauritius: to go hiking in the volcanic mountains and to snorkel in the Indian Ocean. By the time my short two day stay was over, I had accomplished both of these things and so much more. When we arrived on Tuesday morning, the sun peeked out from the rain clouds, just itching to create a beautiful rainbow in the sky. My friend Erin and I set out with many friends in search of a good hiking route. We had planned to hit several stops and eventually hike through the Black River Gorges National Park. Things didn’t entirely go according to plan! We spent a good 2 hours navigating to public bus system and being driven around by a local man for a while. He told us we should go to what sounded to me like “Catabowl” but considering it was French, who knows what it was actually called! We hopped on a bus to this town, unsure of what to expect. At first, we saw no signs of a good hiking spot, since we were dropped off in the center of the town. Markets and bakeries lined the streets and school children were standing at bus stops waiting to go home. We had spent most of the day already exploring the island by car, and we just wanted to get out and hike! From the street, the mountains in the distance were breathtaking. The lush green trees covered the mountain ranges like a carpet and their jagged tops cut through the mist and tropical rain clouds to reach through to the heavens. I wanted so badly to be on top of one of those fantasy-land cliffs!

 

Since we were in the middle of a town filled with concrete sidewalks and pavement, I knew that goal was unlikely. Still, Erin and I decided to take a side street off the main road and try our best. We followed our instincts and walked as far uphill as we could, through several wealthy neighborhoods and tall sugar cane fields. Soon enough, a mountain was in sight. I didn’t think we would reach the base of it, but sure enough, after walking through what looked like a soccer field, we caught sight of a trail. It was still muddy from the afternoon rains, but we didn’t mind. We followed the red-brown path up and around, passing several locals who were already on their way down from their afternoon exercise. As we climbed higher and higher, even more of the impressive landscape came into view. We stopped every now and then to take in the scenery before setting off once again towards the peak. The sun was sinking low in the sky, and we had about an hour before sundown. The golden glow of the sun’s rays skimmed the leaves of grass and fanned out wide over the fields below. Suddenly, the call to prayer emanated like a siren from the mosques in the distance, floating up through the air and lingering in our ears. Even though the majority of the island’s inhabitants are Hindu and of Indian descent, they all embrace each other with a love and friendship I have seen nowhere else in my life.

 

We trekked onward, determined to reach the top as soon as we could. Lots of mud and several mosquito bites later, we found the clearing where the trail ended. It was blanketed with tall grasses and some wildflowers, and through the trees, we could see the whole island before us. Soon after we arrived, the same group of locals we had seen going the other direction showed up. One man, Sanjay, spoke to us shortly before descending again. Speaking with him again reminded us of the power of friendliness, as he wanted nothing more but to help us with directions and recommend his favorite sites so we could make the most of our time in Mauritius.

 

After a fulfilling day of exploration, Erin and I hopped on a bus bound for Port Louis. An hour and a half later, we were driving along the familiar waterfront, witnessing Mauritius’ version of Tuesday Nightlife. It was quiet and balmy, and the dark waters looked just as beautiful under the stars as they did in the daylight. After a great day, I had made it home happier than ever, relishing in the idea that Port Louis could be my home for the day, and that for the last 10 weeks, wandering the unexpected corners of the world has been my reality.

 

 

A Paradise Island Called Mauritius

Mark Twain once wrote that God created Mauritius first, and then Heaven, and that Heaven was based off of Mauritius. After spending just two short days on this oasis in the middle of the Indian Ocean, I can see what he meant.  

 

To start the day off, a group of friends and I had taken a public bus to the town of Curepipe, in the center of the island, near Trou-aux-Cerfs, the volcanic crater. When we got off the bus at our stop an hour outside of Port Louis, it was drizzling again and we sought shelter inside a bakery. It happened to be lunch time, so we treated ourselves to some local desserts. Food is culture, right? Anyway, on our way out of the shop, Zach and Miche had stopped behind to talk to a local. When he walked up to introduce himself to the rest of us, we learned he was a retired physics professor who had taught at universities all over the world. When we asked him where his home was, he presented us with a photo of our planet, taken from outer space (aww). This man, Mr. Mungur, told us all about his home in Mauritius, which was just a few kilometers from the crater we were trying to find. He said if there were fewer of us, he would drive us around. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity, the 7 of us graciously offered to squish into his little hatchback. (“Three of you will have to sit in the boot!” he said.) I swear, we must have looked like a bunch of clowns at a circus getting in and out of that car! He drove us up to Trou-aux-Cerfs, where we had the most incredible view into the now forested crater. It was considerably smaller than the caldera at Kilauea, and was perfectly circular. I couldn't believe that this little hole at the top of a mountain had spewed out enough lava to form the entire island- 11 times as big as DC- just 8 million years ago! From the crater's rim, we could see the stunning landscape 360 degrees around, and as the mist and clouds lifted, the mountains in the distance became even more impressive.

 

While we were taking pictures, I met another local man named Popi, who beautifully expressed how welcoming Mauritians are to travelers. They see everyone as a brother or sister, and invited foreigners in with open arms. This was obvious to me, as every person we passed smiled right at us. Mr. Mungur said it delightfully, that the people of Mauritius are as diverse as a rainbow, with a colorful blend of histories, cultures, and religions. People come from India, Madagascar, France, and England to name a few, and most locals speak at least 3 languages. The religions of Hinduism, Catholicism, and Islam pervade the population, and every person treats each other with a respect I haven't seen anywhere else in my travels so far. Mauritius was like a unique blend of India, Hawaii, and France, in a way I never could have imagined.

 

From Trou-aux-Cerfs, Mr. Mungur drove us to his home, which he was in the process of renovating. He showed us some family photographs, and brought us to the roof balcony where he and his wife eat breakfast each morning, looking out into the gardens below. His friendliness and silly sense of humor reminded me of my father, and made me think of just how much I miss home. Homesickness on this trip is a strange blend of missing the familiar, yet never wanting to return to that same familiarity which makes life back home so ordinary. Hard to explain, and I'm planning to put off thinking about returning home until I absolutely have to!

 

After endlessly thanking Mr. Mungur for completely putting a halt to his day to show us around, we were driven back to the Curepipe bus stop. Only then did he reveal to us that before retiring, he worked for NASA. We had found ourselves a real, live rocket scientist to show us around his home! Truly, it doesn’t get much better than this.

 

 

The Peaceful Backwaters of Kerala

After 14 hours on a train across Southern India, we arrived in the West coast state of Kerala, which appropriately means “land of coconuts”. As I watched the greenery whiz by the open train car door, brightly painted homes and tall palm trees dotted the sides of the railroad. It couldn't look more different from Chennai. In fact, I could have sworn I was back in Vietnam!

When Kristina, Nick, Jenn, and I arrived in the Allapuzzah Train Station, we took a rickshaw towards the Greenpalms Homestay where we had reserved a room for the night. The roads could only take us so far though, as the home was across a river. We loaded into a canoe and helped paddle ourselves to the other side. If the water was a slighter darker shade of brown, I would have been convinced I was in the Mekong Delta again. Luckily, it was not nearly as hot and humid in Kerala. After 3 days in India, I had already grown accustomed to the sweat and dirt, and simply accepted it as a fact of life.

When we arrived at the river bank, we were welcomed into the homes of Thomas, Matthew, and Maria. We were among many other travelers from all over the world- Switzerland, Canada, and Germany, to name a few. Kerala has a very large Christian population, as compared to the Hindu majority in the rest of the country, and outside, we could hear several church services being conducted down the street in the local language, Malayam.

The village was quaint and peaceful, and as we took an exploratory walk along the river, we saw women washing their clothes and men bathing in the water. We followed the iron-orange dirt path through the trees and over bridges, passing smiling children who were running through the saris left to dry on the clotheslines in the sun. This place exuded friendship and community, and Thomas took the time to explain so many aspects of village life and history, from the expansive rice fields to the efficient water irrigation system.

That evening, all of the guests at the homestay were invited on a boat ride through the village. The cool dusk breeze was refreshing as the abrasive sun finally sank below the horizon. As we moved quietly through the waters, Thomas and the locals who were paddling the boat began singing a beautiful traditional folk song that originated in the fields of Kerala before slavery was abolished. When they finished, they asked us to sing folk songs from our respective countries. No one volunteered at first, but after a few minutes of tension, we all broke out into “Don't Stop Believin'!” Not quite a folk song, but it did the trick. It was dark by the time we returned to their home, and we all relaxed for a while before eating the best home cooked meal I have tasted on this trip so far. Even better, in the morning, the mother of the house opened up her kitchen to and gave us all a cooking lesson! I think it's only fair for me to post the recipes for you all. Don't follow the measurements too closely- I was approximating by watching her. I could be pretty off, so use your best judgment!

“Merhukku”

Coconut oil

3 cups Chinese potatoes, sliced 1 cm thick

3 cups coconut, cut into 1 inch pieces

3 stems of curry leaves

1 tbsp turmeric

1 tbsp salt

½ cup red onion, sliced

¼ cup green chili

Pepper to taste

1. In a wok, heat coconut oil

2. Add curry leaves, turmeric, and salt. Stir.

3. Add red onion, green chili, and coconut. Stir 1 minute

4. Add Chinese potato. Stir

5. Cover and simmer 15 minutes, stirring every few minutes

6. Add pepper and stir.

7. Serve over rice

“Thoran”

 

2 tbsp coconut oil

3 cups grated coconut

½ tsp mustard seeds

1/3 cup shallots

1 stem curry leaves

1/3 cup red onion, sliced

¼ cup green chili

2 cups green onions

½ tsp turmeric

1 tbsp salt

1. Heat coconut oil in wok

2. Add mustard seeds and let them pop

3. Add shallots and curry leaves, and stir when shallots have turned golden brown

4. Add green chili and red onions. Stir 1 minute.

5. Add green onions, stir and cover 15 minutes.

6. Add turmeric, salt, and coconut.

7. Serve over rice.

“Fish fry”

 

Medium sized tuna (2 lbs?)

2 tbsp Chili powder

2 tbsp garam masala

1 tbsp turmeric

salt

pepper

1 tbsp garlic and ginger paste

1 cup water

Coconut oil

1 stem curry leaves

1. Mix all spices together and add water to make a paste

2. Cut fish into 2 inch diameter chunks. Wash.

3. Cover fish pieces with pates and marinate for 30 minutes

4. Fry fish in pan of oil with curry leaves.

“Sambar” (vegetable curry)

Can substitute this with pretty much any vegetables you want!

Lentils

Dahl

onion

green chili

papaya

cucumber

tomato

drumstick (looks kind of like an english cucumber)

coriander powder

chili powder

turmeric

coconut

okra

potato

1 tsp asafoetida powder

pinch of fenugreek powder

Add all together, cook over medium heat for ½ hour.

“Papadam”

These are thin pancakes made from kidney beans, and they come packaged like small tortillas.

1. Heat 1 cup coconut oil in small pot.
2. Add one papadam, let fill with air for 45 seconds
3. Use a flat slotted spoon to strain it from the oil before removing.
4. Place in sealed container to cool before serving.

Enjoy! Note: You must eat all of this with your (right) hands or it won't taste nearly as good. I promise.

Chennai, India... A Bustling City of Color

I heard a saying while I was in India which goes, “In America they drive on the right, in Britain they drive on the left, and in India they drive on the sidewalk.” This could not be more true! Ok, so maybe they don't drive on the sidewalks per se, but the sidewalks are so rarely used by pedestrians that the streets become one huge walkway. Driving on literally the wrong side of the road is the norm, as long as you honk to alert others of your presence. I will admit that I couldn't have been happier to spend my stay in Chennai with the Rao family, being driven around by their family driver in the safety of their car!

 

After many email exchanges prior to my arrival in India, I was able to connect with Venkat and Padma Rao, the siblings of my mother's co-worker back in Maryland. I had spent the first afternoon on a trip with Semester at Sea to Mammallapuram, a complex of ancient stone temples built along the shore. Upon arrival back at the ship, I was instructed to call the Raos' driver, who would be waiting for me outside the port gates. I don't want to scare you all, but this port area was shady to say the least. It was about a mile's walk from the ship to the outer gates,  through the dirt roads congested with loading trucks and speeding motorcycles. By the time I was to meet the driver, it was already dark and I was walking alone. I expected to see him right at the first gate, but he was nowhere to be found. I kept going along the street, being verbally harassed by the mobs of rickshaw drivers who were trying to get me into their vehicles. One actually tried telling me that my driver had left to take another job! Eventually, I realized I would be wandering in the dark for a long while if I didn't try calling this man. I asked an auto driver for his cell phone and as soon as he took it out of his pocket, a huge gathering of 30  rickshaw drivers crowded around me to see what I was doing. I decided it was best to take a rickshaw to where the driver was waiting, and ended up paying way too much for a 2 minute ride. I didn't care though- I was happy to find the car! It was a 30 minute drive to Venkat's house in the city, and I was so relieved when I arrived.

 

The whole family was so gracious in welcoming me into their beautiful home. I met family member after family member and must admit that I can barely remember all of their names! Still, it was so nice to be around a big family again after not seeing mine for two months. We talked for a long time over snacks about my study abroad program and my experiences so far, and then about their lives in India, both growing up and also raising their kids. I found it so intriguing how our two societies have so many similarities, yet the fundamental backgrounds of each culture are so contrasting. It was clear that life in the cities is much more comparable to that of the US, while the rural areas are more reminiscent of the 5000 years of Indian tradition. Around 10 o'clock, we went down to the dining room for dinner, which I had worried they had eaten without me since I didn't arrive until 8! It was absolutely delicious, and the first of many fantastic Indian meals. I love eating with my fingers, especially after a month of fumbling with chopsticks. The curries and masalas were fantastic, and I must send out a thank you to Danielle and Dibya, my roommates last semester, for preparing me for spicy cuisine!

 

I had a lovely night's sleep in their guest room, and awoke refreshed in the morning. When I left my room, I found Venkat's mother awake in her room, sipping her tea while watching a soap opera. I asked if I could sit with her and she graciously obliged. She spoke very little English, and I'm sad to say I failed to learn any Tamil while I was in Chennai, but we were able to communicate with each other despite the language  barrier. Above the television in her bedroom was a wall full of family photographs. She pointed to pictures of her own parents, as well as all of her children and grandchildren. At that moment in time, it really hit me how there are families all over this world, just like mine, who pose for photos together to remember each other when they are not together. I couldn't help but think of my own family photo that hangs on the wall of my cabin and the old Polaroids of my own grandparents and aunts and uncles that were taken when they were young.

 

For the rest of the day I was shown around the city by Padma and her husband. I was able to get in touch with Kristina and Nick and they happily joined us. We went to Mylapore temple and Venkat's restaurant, Palimar, where we were completely mystified by how tasty the cauliflower was! India has made us all into believers of cauliflower (I thought it couldn't be done)!

 

It was just a fabulous day and I am so thankful to the entire family for welcoming me into their home and dedicating their entire day to myself and my friends. It made my experience in Chennai truly unforgettable. Around 5 pm we were dropped off at the ship to pack our bags for our train to Alleppey. Unfortunately, I have no exciting train story for you this time. We all got seats on the train (we had been on the waitlist for some days) and though there were a few cockroaches, it was nothing I couldn't handle. Best of all, we were well prepared with snacks this time!

 

The other side of the world in Vietnam (12 hours ahead of the East Coast!)

This was supposed to be posted on March 10th, but it didn't go through. Please bear with me!

 

A new entry here is long overdue. I feel bad for taking so long to finally write, but I had no idea just how exhausting country hopping while taking midterms (and a final exam) would be. Now that I am finally catching up with everything, it is already time to arrive in India! We dock in Chennai tomorrow morning, and I don't think I'm nearly as prepared as I should be. I guess that's part of the beauty of this trip though: just as I'm coming up for air from one country I'm thrown into the next without a second thought. I don't really have a choice- whether or not I am ready for South Asia tomorrow, it will be right there waiting for me in the morning. Not only have I been using these last five or so days to soak in Vietnam, but I've needed it to absorb Japan and China, too. Two days in between countries was almost like a sick joke Semester at Sea plays on its students, tempting us with the concept of rest, but instead, dropping us off at yet another foreign country!

So here I am, about to reflect on Vietnam. It was incredible. It was hot and muggy and the streets were swarming with motorbikes, but it was absolutely stunning. It was the first country we've been to so far that is really in the upward swing of development. I know Shanghai has grown exponentially in the last 20 years, but I have only seen the skyscraper version. Ho Chi Minh City (or Saigon, as the locals still insist on calling it) has no real defined skyline, and at night, the sky is dark above the 14th story. They are still in the motorcycle stage of development, and taxi companies are just starting to have a presence. Every cyclist is required by law to wear a helmet, unless he is a passenger under the age of 10. The women ride their motorcycles completely covered from head to toe, but not out of modesty. They wear zip up jackets, long pants, stockings under their sandals, hats under their helmets, sunglasses, and a large cloth that covers from their nose down to their neck, all to keep the sun from darkening their skin. Meanwhile, I was sweating in my tank top and shorts!

My trip to the Mekong Delta was quite possibly my favorite part of my time in Vietnam. It was an overnight trip organized through Semester at Sea, and the only one I signed up for. (Many people go for days with SAS to the Great Wall in China, the Taj Mahal in India, or spent 3 out of our 5 days in Vietnam on a trip to Cambodia.) There were about 40 of us, mostly students, but about 8 or 9 were either faculty, staff, or their children. We woke up bright and early to bus down to the delta. I slept most of the ride, but when we got to our destination, I was in awe. We all piled in to a riverboat led by our guide, and around me were seemingly endless trees lining the Mekong river. The river itself is brown and shallow, yet its the source of life for the majority of Vietnam's population. They bathe in it, drink it, wash their clothes in it, and live on it, as they travel the delta's waterways on their small boats to the floating markets. Each boat, though identical to the rest at first glance, was uniquely personified. Following an ancient tradition to ward of river spirits, on the stern of each boat is painted a colorful set of eyes. And from a pole rising from each boat, hangs whatever item is being sold, from pineapples to onions. We rode through the floating markets for some time, observing the lively activity and being offered soft drinks from children who rowed up next to our boat. The whole time, I kept checking myself... I could not believe that I was in Vietnam, riding on a boat down the Mekong River!

We stopped off in a village that was bustling with activity. Along the dirt roads there were no real houses or buildings, only large, open air structures with tin roofs. Under one, a man was boiling a vat of salt in order to purify it. In the next area, several people were working together to make coconut toffee. Starting from a ripe coconut, they showed us the process of melting it and mixing ingredients, and then stretching and cutting the candy to be hand wrapped and packaged. The business behind them was making rice paper, I had no idea just how versatile rice was, but I shouldn't have been surprised, considering Vietnam is the second largest producer of rice in the world! The rice paper was made into several forms: round like a tortilla to make spring rolls, small irregular shaped pieces of hardened crackers (tasted a just like corn flakes) and long sheets of paper used to wrap and preserve candy. Across the way, people were making puffed rice, like rice crispies. They popped the rice like it was popcorn, and then sifted out the dirt and unpopped rice. The finished product was then mixed with caramel in large sheets and cut into pieces and packaged. It was so interesting to go from one section to the next and see all of these people working so efficiently to make these products.

I don't think my trip to the Delta would have been complete without trying all of the delicious fruits that were growing everywhere. Not only did they have tiny bananas and coconuts to drink right out of, but they had lychee, mango, papaya, guava, dragon fruit, and jackfruit. By my third day in Vietnam, I was all fruit-ed out!

Even though I had a blast in Vietnam, I don't think it had the same kind of impression that the rest of the ports have had on me. Which is the opposite of what most people I've talked to have said. Maybe the level of development there felt more in the way, rather than feeling like an enhancer of my experience, or maybe I've never had a strong connection to the Vietnam War, and other people were affected more because we were visiting a place where American troops fought so recently. That said, after walking on the same soil where our own soldiers fought not so long ago, and after going to the War Remnants Museum and the Cu Chi Tunnels, I have a much greater interest in what it is that the soldiers my age are doing in Iraq and Afghanistan.

I can't believe it has already been a week since I left Vietnam. For that matter, I can't believe Hawaii was 6 weeks ago! The time is flying by, and I'm doing my best to follow Don Gogniat's (our Global Studies professor) travel tips:

1) It's all about the people

2) Keep your feet on the ground

3) The more you know, the more interesting the trip will be

4) Never let your age get larger than the number of countries you go to (that will be a toughie...)

5) Stop and smell the roses

6) Find a park bench and let the world pass you by

7) Try to appreciate why someone is smiling with you at any moment

And with that, I say- India, here I come!