During our week at sea between India and Mauritius, we crossed the equator for the first time! March 20 was Neptune Day – the traditional sailors’ celebration to commemorate the event. We were woken up very early in the morning to the sounds of beating drums, whistles and loud celebration. Over the intercom we were told to put on our bathing suits and head straight to deck 7, the pool deck. There, we were all told the history of Neptune Day; it was an old tradition of merchant sailors whenever they crossed the equator to be covered in chum and to shave their head. One by one, we all entered the pool, were doused with green fish guts, instructed to kiss a giant dead fish and then knighted by “King Neptune,” Professor Gogniant, our Global Studies professor. After that, kids starting lining up to shave their heads. I couldn’t believe how many people decided to do it! Don’t worry, I didn’t.
Neptune Day was the embodiment of everything that I love about this trip. The ocean that day was the most beautiful of the entire voyage. When Mckenzie and I woke up that morning, we looked out the window to a completely flat, blue ocean. It was like we were floating on a giant lake – not the Indian Ocean. It looked like royal blue glass – so calm and gorgeous, the pictures that I took can’t do it justice.
We didn’t have class and so we were all able to relax and enjoy the beauty of the day. We later had another great cookout on deck 7 and watched the sunset. I saw the green flash as the sun entered the ocean for the first time! (I always thought that was a myth, but it really does happen)
Later that night, there was a ship wide talent show. We all crammed in the Union to listen to so many talented people sing, play instruments and read poetry. I was blown away by all the talented people that I am living among!
Every day I find myself realizing that this trip is dwindling day by day. It makes me sad and anxious. I am nervous I’m not doing everything to the fullest potential – I want to get the maximum I can out of this trip. But then I remember days like Neptune Day and I realize that I am. I prepared for this semester for nearly a year and will look back on this semester for the rest of my life. But the time actually living this semester is so limited – every day is a gift that I cherish, including the day that I ventured across the equator covered in fish guts.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
India
We ported in Chennai, India on March 11 after a week at sea. It was so nice to have that week on the ship – to catch up on work, catch up with friends and really feel at home. It’s funny, but coming back to the ship whenever we are away on trips, I feel this sense of love and belonging whenever I see that big boat in the harbor. It has been my constant as I see and experience new and different things every day. We’ll be riding in a taxi and when we finally see the ship over buildings and streets, everyone will always be like “Aw the ship! We’re home!” Especially with all the quick traveling between Japan and China and Vietnam, that week was such a great way to recharge our batteries and really get excited for India. I think I appreciated getting off the ship so much more with a longer stint at sea.
There was a lot of preport preparation for India. We were told repeatedly of the importance of the customs and maintaining respect and honor during our trip. It was labeled “The Big One” by the Deans and the doctor – the big one for our experiences (and chances for any illnesses imaginable) Also, my history class Women in India really provided me with insight into the sort of conditions we would be experiencing. They asked that all women wear pants below your knees and shirts that covered your shoulders, and preferably elbows. This wouldn’t have been that hard to do if it wasn’t 100 degrees outside, that made it a little trickier. There are several India specialists on the ship, anthropologists, historians, sociologists – all with conflicting opinions on what we should expect and how we should handle our experience. They left me with a feeling of excitement, but also with confusion – they told us not to be shocked by anything, we would see poverty in ways we couldn’t imagine, customs we couldn’t understand, and lifestyles totally different from our own. All these warnings were helpful, and all true.
When we port in different countries we usually dock in cruise terminals, with nice little shops and clean areas to walk through to get to and from the ship. We are dropped in this artificial world of tourism, without any sense of the real people. But in India, there are no cruise terminals, so we docked in an industrial shipping yard, a very different environment than how we have grown accustomed to disembarking. Customs was unorganized, difficult and lengthy. We were given our passport, a passport copy, and an arrival card to all keep up with. We had to carry all these documents on us at all times, because we were occasionally searched and asked for our documentation.
After finally getting off the ship, we were immediately bombarded with taxi and rickshaw drivers, imploring us to take their cab or rickshaw. The port area was confusing and disorganized and within minutes of setting foot into India, we were all very overwhelmed. We eventually figured out that we had to walk about 10 minutes down a road to leave the port gates to really enter the city. That walk was pretty eye opening. Everything was completely covered in black filth and it didn’t take long for all of us to look like we hadn’t showered in days. There were huge industrial trucks lining the roads, no sidewalks and just empty dilapidated buildings all around us. We finally made it to the port gate where we were bombarded again with drivers asking to take us anywhere we pleased. We were told by the Foreign Service officers in Chennai to really stick with the rickshaws, they were the cheapest and easiest way to maneuver around town. But they also said to make sure they didn’t try to make any stops along the way (this happened almost every time.) We eventually negotiated a price with a very persistent rickshaw driver to take us to Spencer’s Plaza – a local market and shopping area where we were told we could buy original goods. I really wanted to get a Sari – the traditional Indian dress. As expected, about halfway through our trip to the Plaza, the driver pulled over at a local market and told us to please spend five minutes inside shopping. The diplomats had warned us about this – that every driver gets a cut for taking foreigners to local shops along their route. Knowing what to do, we remained in the rickshaw and he eventually took us the rest of the way, disappointed. But that rickshaw ride was one of my favorite experiences in all of India. It was about a 40 minute drive, we just gazed out the sides taking in every sight, sound and smell. Chennai is a pretty large city in the South of India, but the infrastructure is still very limited. The roads were mostly dirt and were overflowing with rickshaws. We would pass huge families crammed in one tiny rickshaw – the children waving happily at us as we drove by. It was a great way to really see the city. Once again, I am blown away by the traffic. Port after port it just keeps getting crazier. In India there are absolutely no traffic laws, you are totally left to fend for yourself. I don’t know how anyone can drive like that, or get from place to place safely all the time. It was also my first chance to really see poverty as we had been warned about up close. There would be an immaculately nice office building backed right up to unroofed slums – small children begging with little bare feet in the dirt while men drove by in huge luxury cars. The economic disparity is huge – and very apparent.
We eventually reached Spencer’s Plaza, which turned out to be more like a mall than we had expected. But this was our only free day during our time in India without planned trips, so we wanted to spend it making sure we got all the mementoes we wanted. We stumbled upon a little cloth and fabric store owned by the sweetest older man I’ve ever met. Like most of the residents of Chennai, he knew that “big boat of Americans” was coming that day. He and his wife serve as homestay parents to Semester at Sea kids every semester and he was so friendly and warm, we all immediately felt at ease. We shopped around for the majority of the afternoon and had lunch inside the Plaza a little food court type area. I was a little hesitant about the food in India – so worried that I would eat something bad and not be able to fully experience the country. Dr. Mort gave a detailed debriefing prior to our entry and suggested we all take “pepto prophylaxis” with every meal while in India. We all did this religiously and luckily avoided any type of sickness. “Pepto prophylaxis” has become sort of a running joke on the ship – but no one is questioning its power. I just pointed to a picture on the menu, not knowing what I would end up with – it sort of was like a cheese quesadilla, served with a side of several different sauces and mixtures. Everything was incredibly spicy; I drank 3 bottles of water in that single sitting. Later, we explored around Spencer’s a little more, and we finally stumbled upon a dress shop. There, little Indian women were so excited to help us pick out our saris. We all tried on several before deciding on the ones that were right for us. The one I picked out is red with a brightly colored matching scarf and pants – I’m not sure where I’ll ever wear it, but it is beautiful. We later took a rickshaw back towards the ship, giving us another chance to see the city before heading back to the ship for a much needed shower. The crew on board the ship placed cardboard and plastic wrap over all the floors on the ship to prevent us from tracking in dirt. By the time we got back – the cardboard floors were already black. I have never seen dust, dirt and filth like I did that first day in Chennai. This might be too much information but I think it sums up the situation – anytime I blew my nose, the Kleenex would be black. We were inhaling soot and dirt for six days straight.
The next morning I had to wake up very early (3:30 am) to meet my group for our Semester at Sea planned trip to the Taj Mahal and Varanasi. This early morning routine became the norm during our time in India – it was quite a strenuous trip. We took a bus to the Chennai airport in the dark of night, as we drove we passed by a beach where a beautiful moon overlooked the ocean. We passed through security at the airport and boarded our flight to Delhi. After landing in Delhi, we remained on the same plane, with about an hour break on the tarmac and then took our second flight to Varanasi. Varanasi is the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world, located on the banks of the Ganges River; it is one of the holiest sites in the world for Hindus. The city feels old. Located in the northern part of India, there was definitely a difference in temperature, attitude and lifestyle with that of the south. Walking through the streets, I could feel the history, encapsulated in centuries of tradition, custom and ritual. We checked into our hotel where we were warmly greeted with tea and all had our foreheads painted with a bindi. Bindis are a small typically red dot placed right in the center of your face – between your eyes. Indians believe that your forehead is an empty space that needs to be made beautiful; the same concept is sometimes also applied to the neck. We had lunch at our hotel before leaving for an afternoon visit to a silk market. I was blown away by the intricacies of silk making. One man would sit behind a loom for hours to create masterpieces. He told us that it took about one week, working 10 hours a day, to produce one line in a silk wall hanging, which was probably about 5 feet by 7 feet. The work was tedious, but absolutely beautiful. After the silk market we proceed to a neighboring town called Sarnath. Sarnath is believed to be the location of the Buddha’s first sermon – a site incredibly holy to Buddhists. While there isn’t really any empirical evidence that Buddha was actually ever in Sarnath, or was actually a real person at all – it is an incredibly holy place and pilgrimage site for Buddhists. We first visited the museum, where there was room after room of excavated statues, clay pottery and ancient artifacts. We then visited the ruins of an ancient monastery where a group of monks was leading an afternoon service. Upon leaving the ruins, we were absolutely mobbed with people trying to sell us things on the street – it was incredibly overwhelming. We then visited the new Buddhist temple in Sarnath, a beautiful space that was ornately decorated. Afterwards, we proceeded back to Varanasi to watch Ganga Aarti at Dasaswamedh Ghat on the banks of the Ganges River. Ganga Aarti is a religious ceremony preformed in the evenings right on the river banks. The Ganges River is said to be one of the most holy places for a Hindu – and if you die in Varanasi then your soul goes straight to Heaven without any waiting or verdict, it is immediate acceptance into the next world. It is believed that the Ganges is full of Shakti, or divine spiritual power. Because of this, if you wash your body in the Ganges then you are immediately forgiven for your sins – once again purified in the eyes of God. But because of the belief that if you die in Varanasi you will immediately enter Heaven, the banks of the Ganges are full of dilapidated “death houses” – where people pilgrimage to await their death. There was this weird eerie feeling of lurking death in Varanasi that I can’t really describe, but the imminence of the end of life and the waiting for it was just a really strange concept for me to consider. We all took rickshaws from a side street to the banks of the river, once again I loved being able to take in my complete surroundings. The streets were packed with rickshaws and bicycles, the traffic constantly slowed down by the huge cows that would just lie in the middle of the street. No one ever attempted to make the cattle move, but just peacefully waited for them to move along on their own. I was never really given a straight answer on why the cow is so sacred, just that a lot of great Brahmins (the highest caste) were reincarnated between their human lives as cows. I’ve never had such a sensory over load as I did in that rickshaw on the way to the Ganges. There were night markets open, people moving in every direction, food being cooked and so much going on it was hard to take it all in. We finally reached the river where the ceremony had already begun. By this time it was dark outside and we just quietly watched as people sang songs and spread incense and prayed. Many participants in the ceremony were in canoes in the river along the bank. I wish that I could have understood better what was going on, but it was very beautiful. And I’m sure very meaningful to Hindus. Standing so near the water, the mosquitoes were incredibly bad. They were so thick it was all I could see when looking out onto the water. Luckily, I was pretty much drenched in deet and have been taking my malaria medicine pretty religiously – but it was still pretty gross. We later took rickshaws back to meet our bus to take us back to our hotel. We all prepared for our early morning wakeup call the next morning to watch the sunrise on the Ganges.
We had a 4:30 wakeup call the next morning, so we quickly had a little coffee and boarded the bus to take us back to the banks of the Ganges for the sunrise. We all boarded a large wooden boat while it was still dark outside to begin our float down the Ganges. We were able to watch the city come alive at dawn, one of the most beautiful sites I’ve ever seen. As the sun started to rise, people began entering the holy waters, bathing and washing away their sin and releasing their souls from the cycle of rebirth. This ritual has been practiced for centuries, and I felt so small, surrounded by the magnitude of this historic and traditional act. We floated for about an hour, passing religious site after site, death house after house, until we reached the sacred crematorium. Another part of the Hindu religion is that the deceased must be cremated. Those cremated along the Ganges are said to be the most holy, devout, soon to be dwellers of Heaven. The crematorium was basically just a large bank on the side of the river with big ditches dug out where several small fires were being controlled by workers. We watched as families mourned while witnessing the cremation of loved ones, one of the most gruesome – yet beautiful things I’ve experienced on this trip. It was this morning where I really witnessed the beauty of life and death. I saw young children following their parents into the water to cleanse their sins, and then I saw grown children mourning the loss of their mothers and fathers. These simple acts were wrapped in generations of religious tradition; I was overcome with so many feelings, but mostly I was in awe of how spectacular it was to be in a wooden boat on the Ganges River – one of the birthplaces of civilization. We got out of the boat right past the crematorium to take a walk through downtown Varanasi. As we walked, dust, dirt and ash would surround us, I had to breathe through my scarf the majority of the morning. By the time we arrived back at the hotel for breakfast, most all of our clothes were black with dirt and soot. After breakfast, we visited a glass bead shop where we were all given a lesson in bead making. We shopped for a little while and the proceeded back to our hotel to check out and head towards the airport for our return trip to Delhi. The Varanasi airport was quite an experience. It was literally two rooms, one seating area prior to “security” and one after. It was the most rinky-dink airport imaginable; we walked straight from security to the tarmac where we boarded the plane back to Delhi. After our arrival in Delhi we took a city tour which included driving down Santi Path (which means the road to peace) where all the embassies are located. We passed the War Memorial, Parliament House, secretariat buildings and the official residence of the President of India. We then visited the Birla Temple – a beautiful complex located right in downtown Delhi. Afterwards, we checked into our hotel – an unbelievable resort called the Ashok. While this was probably one of the nicest hotels in Delhi, the water in the shower was brown. I never felt like I was ever really clean. We had some free time before dinner, so I ventured to a market with my friends Abby and Amy. Located outside, this market seemed to go on for miles. We all really wanted some henna on our hands – so we walked around until we found a little henna station, where the painters could whip out cool designs in seconds, I was amazed how quickly they could do it. We later took a rickshaw back to our hotel after spending probably a good half an hour trying to find an exit to the market.
The next morning we had a 4:15 wake up call to leave the hotel by 5am for our train ride to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. My experience in the train station in Delhi was one of the most eye opening experiences of my life. As soon as the bus pulled up to the station, child beggars, homeless people and many people with physical deformities swarmed the bus. This happened almost everywhere we went while on the trip in India – but at the train station at 5 in the morning was very overwhelming. We were told not to make eye contact, not to give them any money and just walk straight ahead. This was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It hurt deep down inside to see the small children beg for money, food, and just some attention. We were told not to really compare our experiences in India to Slumdog Millionaire because “it’s not how it really is”. But the sheer magnitude of poverty that we saw that morning was spot on like the movie. Our tour guide told us that the child beggars’ bosses typically drug the smaller children, to make them appear less active. I’ve never felt quite as helpless as I did that morning. There was absolutely nothing I could do to help the situation, I could provide no type of solution and it hurt my soul. As we walked from the bus to the landing, we passed through this little covered area right outside the terminal. There, hundreds of people were sleeping under all sorts of cloths and blankets. It was the most unbelievable site. Here I was, boarding a train to see the Taj Mahal, while hundreds of people were struggling to get through the night asleep. It affected me profoundly. We’ve discussed on this trip very often about our position in the world – I’m living on a cruise liner, circumnavigating the globe while we visit and learn about people that are struggling to survive. How do I reconcile that? How do I make peace with that? I haven’t yet. But that morning in that train station changed something, in my outlook, my standpoint, and my perspective in relation to the world. I was horrified and moved, and changed.
We took the Shatabdi Express to Agra which was about a 3 hour trip. Upon arriving in Agra we visited the red sandstone palace of Fatehpur Sikri. 25 miles from Agra, Fatehpur Sikri was built by the emperor Akbar as his capital to honor a Muslim saint who prophesied the birth of his sole male heir. It was a beautiful compound and in a remarkably high state of preservation. My favorite part was looking out into the distance, we could see a large tomb area Akbar built for his beloved elephant when it died. It had a better burial than a lot of his family. Afterwards, we had lunch at a local hotel (we ate all of our meals in hotels – I think it was the only way they could really accommodate all of us). Afterwards we visited Agra Fort, home to the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan. Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal as a mausoleum for his wife Mumtaz Mahal after she died in childbirth. Agra Fort was incredibly beautiful, definitely an impressive home for an emperor. Looking out the windows of Agra Fort, we could see the Taj in the distance, which was an amazing viewpoint. We then finally proceeded to the Taj. Afraid that petroleum car emissions might damage the color of the Taj, only battery operated cars are allowed within one mile of it. We all had to board small battery cars to get to the gates. It was so hot outside, crammed into this little car was pretty miserable. We finally arrived at the gates where we waited what seemed like forever to clear security to go inside. We were all a little disappointed because we only were given about an hour to explore the entire grounds – we could have spent days there, taking it in from different angles and views. But we eventually made it through security and were given little shoe covers to wear inside. The Taj Mahal really is an architectural marvel. The symmetry, white marble design and color was breathtaking. It is said that the color changes slightly throughout the day, depending on the sun. We arrived a little after 4pm and by the time we left a little after 5, it looked different to me. It was very crowded, I wanted to take lots of pictures, but I felt I was missing out on taking in its beauty by being touristy. We just sat for several minutes, admiring it. Flanking the main mausoleum on either side are two mosques, not typically considered when you think of the Taj Mahal. These buildings were just as beautiful. We wanted to make sure we had time to actually enter inside, so we got in the long line wrapping all the way around the dome. Looking at the design up close, the intricacies of the marble inlay is absolutely unbelievable. Tiny flowers, designs and symbols cover the walls – the hours of labor to make such beauty I can’t even comprehend. We finally were able to quickly walk through inside and view Mumtaz Mahal’s tomb. The entire gate around her tomb was made out of one large piece of marble. I’ve always thought the Taj Mahal was beautiful, but I never really understood why it was such a “wonder”. I get it now. It has the perfect duality of simple and intricate. It is the physical manifestation of Shah Jahan’s love for Mumtaz. And looking at it from every angle shows you something different. While I would have loved to have spent a little more time admiring its beauty – I am just so glad I was able to visit such an amazing architectural feat. We later had dinner at a hotel and took the train back to Delhi.
For part of my grade for my Women in India class, I had to talk to someone about their social lifestyle in India. Since I was on the Semester at Sea trip, I really didn’t encounter too many people on my own. I decided to ask our tour leader Rajh some questions – which were incredibly eye opening and informative. He told me about his life in Delhi, which sounded very cosmopolitan and urban, not like the lives of the women in the villages we are reading about. He told me his family was in the process of selecting his future wife – and that arranged marriages were the duty of every Hindu man. I asked him if he found the love of his life, would he still allow his parents to arrange his marriage to a stranger. He replied, “I have loved already, that chapter is over, I now must fulfill my duty to my family.” He went on to say that his parents had “learned to love” each other and every day is a learning experience about the other person. This concept just seemed so foreign; but it was such a great conversations about the philosophy of love and duty and the differences in India and the United States.
The next morning we departed Delhi at 6am for our flight to Cochin to meet back up with the ship. It was one of the longest days of traveling I’ve ever experienced – every mode of transportation was delayed and took longer than expected. We finally arrived in Cochin late in the afternoon around 4pm and had to go through customs to enter the port. Cochin is located in the only communist state in India, which made customs logistically hard and time consuming. Every government agency in India is just a little disorganized. I kind of loved that about the country, but it did make traveling a little bit tough. Back in the southern part of India, it was so humid. I was so glad to get back to the ship for a real shower (with clear water).
On our final day in India I visited the SOS Children’s Village in Cochin in the afternoon. In the morning, Mckenzie, Kalyn, Sarah, Nicci and I ventured to find a local post office. We were told it wasn’t that far from the port, so we decided to walk and try and find it. The entire way there, there were 3 to 4 rickshaws following us, yelling “semesterrr, we’ll take you anywhere!” At this point, we’ve gotten pretty used to hecklers and persistent drivers and sellers – but India was really a whole new level. We eventually found the post office, and then had a little lunch a local restaurant. We all ordered something different; mine was sort of a pancake type crepe with potatoes and a spicy sauce on the inside. We then returned to the ship to get ready for our afternoon visit to the Children’s Village.
SOS Children’s Villages are orphanages that have been set up by UNICEF and are located throughout the world. After seeing the children in the train station in Delhi, I had to do some sort of service project while I was in India. We rode for about an hour and half to reach the village on the outskirts of Cochin. As soon as we stepped off the bus we were greeted by children with balloons, all coming up to us, holding our hands and greeting us so warmly. We were taken to their small outdoor auditorium where we each were painted with a bindi on the forehead and neck and given a full coconut to drink while we watched the children sing and dance. After their performances, we were taken to one of their homes. There are 20 houses located in the village, all with about 15-20 children living in each home. Their home is the center of their life, with all the rest of the children forming their family and all having one “mother” that watches over them. We sat on the floor and played, colored, and talked for about 2 hours that afternoon. The children in the house I visited were of all ages, but there were four young teenage girls, probably around the ages of 12 to 14, that I immediately connected with. They all spoke basic English and so I was able to really talk to them about their lives. They told me they had never seen “yellow” hair before, and just wanted to play with it and touch my skin. Before the trip, I got some really small plastic trinkets from Wal-Mart in Galax because I was told children on service trips would love having a little something. I passed out little rubber balls to the boys and little neon plastic rings to the girls and they loved them. I couldn’t believe how enamored these children were by such a small small thing. I talked to the girls about their life ambitions, what they wanted to do when they could not longer live in the village. One girl told me she wanted to be a nurse, and when I told her that my mom was a nurse, she beamed from ear to ear. I wish that I could remember her name, I want so badly to be able to write to her, keep up with her and know how her life progresses. It was a day I will never forget, I was completely amazed by these children. I also was amazed by their “mother” the kindest older lady I have ever met. What an amazing woman she was – to live her life in the service of these children who otherwise would have no maternal figure. That is the definition of love.
We returned to the ship later that evening and departed Cochin, India for Port Louis, Mauritius. My time in India was extraordinary. I have never been placed so far out of my comfort zone and been left with the implications of that. It made me consider my life, my small place within this massive world, and how lucky I am. While I think that my pre-arranged trip did limit my ability to really feel the culture first hand, I wouldn’t have been able to witness the incredible things I saw otherwise. With my love for history, Varanasi impacted me in ways I didn’t know that it would. I could feel the centuries of tradition around me, how much bigger these rituals were than you or me. I was witnessing history in action. The Taj Mahal is a masterpiece – and it deserves all of the recognition that it has ever received. I was in awe of its beauty, a structure that has no parallel. But my time in India was not defined by the sites that I saw or the pictures that I took – it was made by the people that I met and the conversations that I had. I will always feel incredibly lucky to have experienced those six days in India.
Everyone always says “this trip changes you – you will see.” I was waiting for the change, waiting for this big “ah ha” moment, when I would be a different person. I have learned it doesn’t work like that. It isn’t some cosmic shift in my personality, but tiny adjustments in how I view things within the world. India was the first time I felt my outlook being altered. Everything that I regarded within my frame of reference was questioned, considered and examined. I will always be indebted to India for showing me this, helping me to expand my outlook and slowly change how I view myself in relation to the world.
There was a lot of preport preparation for India. We were told repeatedly of the importance of the customs and maintaining respect and honor during our trip. It was labeled “The Big One” by the Deans and the doctor – the big one for our experiences (and chances for any illnesses imaginable) Also, my history class Women in India really provided me with insight into the sort of conditions we would be experiencing. They asked that all women wear pants below your knees and shirts that covered your shoulders, and preferably elbows. This wouldn’t have been that hard to do if it wasn’t 100 degrees outside, that made it a little trickier. There are several India specialists on the ship, anthropologists, historians, sociologists – all with conflicting opinions on what we should expect and how we should handle our experience. They left me with a feeling of excitement, but also with confusion – they told us not to be shocked by anything, we would see poverty in ways we couldn’t imagine, customs we couldn’t understand, and lifestyles totally different from our own. All these warnings were helpful, and all true.
When we port in different countries we usually dock in cruise terminals, with nice little shops and clean areas to walk through to get to and from the ship. We are dropped in this artificial world of tourism, without any sense of the real people. But in India, there are no cruise terminals, so we docked in an industrial shipping yard, a very different environment than how we have grown accustomed to disembarking. Customs was unorganized, difficult and lengthy. We were given our passport, a passport copy, and an arrival card to all keep up with. We had to carry all these documents on us at all times, because we were occasionally searched and asked for our documentation.
After finally getting off the ship, we were immediately bombarded with taxi and rickshaw drivers, imploring us to take their cab or rickshaw. The port area was confusing and disorganized and within minutes of setting foot into India, we were all very overwhelmed. We eventually figured out that we had to walk about 10 minutes down a road to leave the port gates to really enter the city. That walk was pretty eye opening. Everything was completely covered in black filth and it didn’t take long for all of us to look like we hadn’t showered in days. There were huge industrial trucks lining the roads, no sidewalks and just empty dilapidated buildings all around us. We finally made it to the port gate where we were bombarded again with drivers asking to take us anywhere we pleased. We were told by the Foreign Service officers in Chennai to really stick with the rickshaws, they were the cheapest and easiest way to maneuver around town. But they also said to make sure they didn’t try to make any stops along the way (this happened almost every time.) We eventually negotiated a price with a very persistent rickshaw driver to take us to Spencer’s Plaza – a local market and shopping area where we were told we could buy original goods. I really wanted to get a Sari – the traditional Indian dress. As expected, about halfway through our trip to the Plaza, the driver pulled over at a local market and told us to please spend five minutes inside shopping. The diplomats had warned us about this – that every driver gets a cut for taking foreigners to local shops along their route. Knowing what to do, we remained in the rickshaw and he eventually took us the rest of the way, disappointed. But that rickshaw ride was one of my favorite experiences in all of India. It was about a 40 minute drive, we just gazed out the sides taking in every sight, sound and smell. Chennai is a pretty large city in the South of India, but the infrastructure is still very limited. The roads were mostly dirt and were overflowing with rickshaws. We would pass huge families crammed in one tiny rickshaw – the children waving happily at us as we drove by. It was a great way to really see the city. Once again, I am blown away by the traffic. Port after port it just keeps getting crazier. In India there are absolutely no traffic laws, you are totally left to fend for yourself. I don’t know how anyone can drive like that, or get from place to place safely all the time. It was also my first chance to really see poverty as we had been warned about up close. There would be an immaculately nice office building backed right up to unroofed slums – small children begging with little bare feet in the dirt while men drove by in huge luxury cars. The economic disparity is huge – and very apparent.
We eventually reached Spencer’s Plaza, which turned out to be more like a mall than we had expected. But this was our only free day during our time in India without planned trips, so we wanted to spend it making sure we got all the mementoes we wanted. We stumbled upon a little cloth and fabric store owned by the sweetest older man I’ve ever met. Like most of the residents of Chennai, he knew that “big boat of Americans” was coming that day. He and his wife serve as homestay parents to Semester at Sea kids every semester and he was so friendly and warm, we all immediately felt at ease. We shopped around for the majority of the afternoon and had lunch inside the Plaza a little food court type area. I was a little hesitant about the food in India – so worried that I would eat something bad and not be able to fully experience the country. Dr. Mort gave a detailed debriefing prior to our entry and suggested we all take “pepto prophylaxis” with every meal while in India. We all did this religiously and luckily avoided any type of sickness. “Pepto prophylaxis” has become sort of a running joke on the ship – but no one is questioning its power. I just pointed to a picture on the menu, not knowing what I would end up with – it sort of was like a cheese quesadilla, served with a side of several different sauces and mixtures. Everything was incredibly spicy; I drank 3 bottles of water in that single sitting. Later, we explored around Spencer’s a little more, and we finally stumbled upon a dress shop. There, little Indian women were so excited to help us pick out our saris. We all tried on several before deciding on the ones that were right for us. The one I picked out is red with a brightly colored matching scarf and pants – I’m not sure where I’ll ever wear it, but it is beautiful. We later took a rickshaw back towards the ship, giving us another chance to see the city before heading back to the ship for a much needed shower. The crew on board the ship placed cardboard and plastic wrap over all the floors on the ship to prevent us from tracking in dirt. By the time we got back – the cardboard floors were already black. I have never seen dust, dirt and filth like I did that first day in Chennai. This might be too much information but I think it sums up the situation – anytime I blew my nose, the Kleenex would be black. We were inhaling soot and dirt for six days straight.
The next morning I had to wake up very early (3:30 am) to meet my group for our Semester at Sea planned trip to the Taj Mahal and Varanasi. This early morning routine became the norm during our time in India – it was quite a strenuous trip. We took a bus to the Chennai airport in the dark of night, as we drove we passed by a beach where a beautiful moon overlooked the ocean. We passed through security at the airport and boarded our flight to Delhi. After landing in Delhi, we remained on the same plane, with about an hour break on the tarmac and then took our second flight to Varanasi. Varanasi is the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world, located on the banks of the Ganges River; it is one of the holiest sites in the world for Hindus. The city feels old. Located in the northern part of India, there was definitely a difference in temperature, attitude and lifestyle with that of the south. Walking through the streets, I could feel the history, encapsulated in centuries of tradition, custom and ritual. We checked into our hotel where we were warmly greeted with tea and all had our foreheads painted with a bindi. Bindis are a small typically red dot placed right in the center of your face – between your eyes. Indians believe that your forehead is an empty space that needs to be made beautiful; the same concept is sometimes also applied to the neck. We had lunch at our hotel before leaving for an afternoon visit to a silk market. I was blown away by the intricacies of silk making. One man would sit behind a loom for hours to create masterpieces. He told us that it took about one week, working 10 hours a day, to produce one line in a silk wall hanging, which was probably about 5 feet by 7 feet. The work was tedious, but absolutely beautiful. After the silk market we proceed to a neighboring town called Sarnath. Sarnath is believed to be the location of the Buddha’s first sermon – a site incredibly holy to Buddhists. While there isn’t really any empirical evidence that Buddha was actually ever in Sarnath, or was actually a real person at all – it is an incredibly holy place and pilgrimage site for Buddhists. We first visited the museum, where there was room after room of excavated statues, clay pottery and ancient artifacts. We then visited the ruins of an ancient monastery where a group of monks was leading an afternoon service. Upon leaving the ruins, we were absolutely mobbed with people trying to sell us things on the street – it was incredibly overwhelming. We then visited the new Buddhist temple in Sarnath, a beautiful space that was ornately decorated. Afterwards, we proceeded back to Varanasi to watch Ganga Aarti at Dasaswamedh Ghat on the banks of the Ganges River. Ganga Aarti is a religious ceremony preformed in the evenings right on the river banks. The Ganges River is said to be one of the most holy places for a Hindu – and if you die in Varanasi then your soul goes straight to Heaven without any waiting or verdict, it is immediate acceptance into the next world. It is believed that the Ganges is full of Shakti, or divine spiritual power. Because of this, if you wash your body in the Ganges then you are immediately forgiven for your sins – once again purified in the eyes of God. But because of the belief that if you die in Varanasi you will immediately enter Heaven, the banks of the Ganges are full of dilapidated “death houses” – where people pilgrimage to await their death. There was this weird eerie feeling of lurking death in Varanasi that I can’t really describe, but the imminence of the end of life and the waiting for it was just a really strange concept for me to consider. We all took rickshaws from a side street to the banks of the river, once again I loved being able to take in my complete surroundings. The streets were packed with rickshaws and bicycles, the traffic constantly slowed down by the huge cows that would just lie in the middle of the street. No one ever attempted to make the cattle move, but just peacefully waited for them to move along on their own. I was never really given a straight answer on why the cow is so sacred, just that a lot of great Brahmins (the highest caste) were reincarnated between their human lives as cows. I’ve never had such a sensory over load as I did in that rickshaw on the way to the Ganges. There were night markets open, people moving in every direction, food being cooked and so much going on it was hard to take it all in. We finally reached the river where the ceremony had already begun. By this time it was dark outside and we just quietly watched as people sang songs and spread incense and prayed. Many participants in the ceremony were in canoes in the river along the bank. I wish that I could have understood better what was going on, but it was very beautiful. And I’m sure very meaningful to Hindus. Standing so near the water, the mosquitoes were incredibly bad. They were so thick it was all I could see when looking out onto the water. Luckily, I was pretty much drenched in deet and have been taking my malaria medicine pretty religiously – but it was still pretty gross. We later took rickshaws back to meet our bus to take us back to our hotel. We all prepared for our early morning wakeup call the next morning to watch the sunrise on the Ganges.
We had a 4:30 wakeup call the next morning, so we quickly had a little coffee and boarded the bus to take us back to the banks of the Ganges for the sunrise. We all boarded a large wooden boat while it was still dark outside to begin our float down the Ganges. We were able to watch the city come alive at dawn, one of the most beautiful sites I’ve ever seen. As the sun started to rise, people began entering the holy waters, bathing and washing away their sin and releasing their souls from the cycle of rebirth. This ritual has been practiced for centuries, and I felt so small, surrounded by the magnitude of this historic and traditional act. We floated for about an hour, passing religious site after site, death house after house, until we reached the sacred crematorium. Another part of the Hindu religion is that the deceased must be cremated. Those cremated along the Ganges are said to be the most holy, devout, soon to be dwellers of Heaven. The crematorium was basically just a large bank on the side of the river with big ditches dug out where several small fires were being controlled by workers. We watched as families mourned while witnessing the cremation of loved ones, one of the most gruesome – yet beautiful things I’ve experienced on this trip. It was this morning where I really witnessed the beauty of life and death. I saw young children following their parents into the water to cleanse their sins, and then I saw grown children mourning the loss of their mothers and fathers. These simple acts were wrapped in generations of religious tradition; I was overcome with so many feelings, but mostly I was in awe of how spectacular it was to be in a wooden boat on the Ganges River – one of the birthplaces of civilization. We got out of the boat right past the crematorium to take a walk through downtown Varanasi. As we walked, dust, dirt and ash would surround us, I had to breathe through my scarf the majority of the morning. By the time we arrived back at the hotel for breakfast, most all of our clothes were black with dirt and soot. After breakfast, we visited a glass bead shop where we were all given a lesson in bead making. We shopped for a little while and the proceeded back to our hotel to check out and head towards the airport for our return trip to Delhi. The Varanasi airport was quite an experience. It was literally two rooms, one seating area prior to “security” and one after. It was the most rinky-dink airport imaginable; we walked straight from security to the tarmac where we boarded the plane back to Delhi. After our arrival in Delhi we took a city tour which included driving down Santi Path (which means the road to peace) where all the embassies are located. We passed the War Memorial, Parliament House, secretariat buildings and the official residence of the President of India. We then visited the Birla Temple – a beautiful complex located right in downtown Delhi. Afterwards, we checked into our hotel – an unbelievable resort called the Ashok. While this was probably one of the nicest hotels in Delhi, the water in the shower was brown. I never felt like I was ever really clean. We had some free time before dinner, so I ventured to a market with my friends Abby and Amy. Located outside, this market seemed to go on for miles. We all really wanted some henna on our hands – so we walked around until we found a little henna station, where the painters could whip out cool designs in seconds, I was amazed how quickly they could do it. We later took a rickshaw back to our hotel after spending probably a good half an hour trying to find an exit to the market.
The next morning we had a 4:15 wake up call to leave the hotel by 5am for our train ride to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. My experience in the train station in Delhi was one of the most eye opening experiences of my life. As soon as the bus pulled up to the station, child beggars, homeless people and many people with physical deformities swarmed the bus. This happened almost everywhere we went while on the trip in India – but at the train station at 5 in the morning was very overwhelming. We were told not to make eye contact, not to give them any money and just walk straight ahead. This was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It hurt deep down inside to see the small children beg for money, food, and just some attention. We were told not to really compare our experiences in India to Slumdog Millionaire because “it’s not how it really is”. But the sheer magnitude of poverty that we saw that morning was spot on like the movie. Our tour guide told us that the child beggars’ bosses typically drug the smaller children, to make them appear less active. I’ve never felt quite as helpless as I did that morning. There was absolutely nothing I could do to help the situation, I could provide no type of solution and it hurt my soul. As we walked from the bus to the landing, we passed through this little covered area right outside the terminal. There, hundreds of people were sleeping under all sorts of cloths and blankets. It was the most unbelievable site. Here I was, boarding a train to see the Taj Mahal, while hundreds of people were struggling to get through the night asleep. It affected me profoundly. We’ve discussed on this trip very often about our position in the world – I’m living on a cruise liner, circumnavigating the globe while we visit and learn about people that are struggling to survive. How do I reconcile that? How do I make peace with that? I haven’t yet. But that morning in that train station changed something, in my outlook, my standpoint, and my perspective in relation to the world. I was horrified and moved, and changed.
We took the Shatabdi Express to Agra which was about a 3 hour trip. Upon arriving in Agra we visited the red sandstone palace of Fatehpur Sikri. 25 miles from Agra, Fatehpur Sikri was built by the emperor Akbar as his capital to honor a Muslim saint who prophesied the birth of his sole male heir. It was a beautiful compound and in a remarkably high state of preservation. My favorite part was looking out into the distance, we could see a large tomb area Akbar built for his beloved elephant when it died. It had a better burial than a lot of his family. Afterwards, we had lunch at a local hotel (we ate all of our meals in hotels – I think it was the only way they could really accommodate all of us). Afterwards we visited Agra Fort, home to the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan. Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal as a mausoleum for his wife Mumtaz Mahal after she died in childbirth. Agra Fort was incredibly beautiful, definitely an impressive home for an emperor. Looking out the windows of Agra Fort, we could see the Taj in the distance, which was an amazing viewpoint. We then finally proceeded to the Taj. Afraid that petroleum car emissions might damage the color of the Taj, only battery operated cars are allowed within one mile of it. We all had to board small battery cars to get to the gates. It was so hot outside, crammed into this little car was pretty miserable. We finally arrived at the gates where we waited what seemed like forever to clear security to go inside. We were all a little disappointed because we only were given about an hour to explore the entire grounds – we could have spent days there, taking it in from different angles and views. But we eventually made it through security and were given little shoe covers to wear inside. The Taj Mahal really is an architectural marvel. The symmetry, white marble design and color was breathtaking. It is said that the color changes slightly throughout the day, depending on the sun. We arrived a little after 4pm and by the time we left a little after 5, it looked different to me. It was very crowded, I wanted to take lots of pictures, but I felt I was missing out on taking in its beauty by being touristy. We just sat for several minutes, admiring it. Flanking the main mausoleum on either side are two mosques, not typically considered when you think of the Taj Mahal. These buildings were just as beautiful. We wanted to make sure we had time to actually enter inside, so we got in the long line wrapping all the way around the dome. Looking at the design up close, the intricacies of the marble inlay is absolutely unbelievable. Tiny flowers, designs and symbols cover the walls – the hours of labor to make such beauty I can’t even comprehend. We finally were able to quickly walk through inside and view Mumtaz Mahal’s tomb. The entire gate around her tomb was made out of one large piece of marble. I’ve always thought the Taj Mahal was beautiful, but I never really understood why it was such a “wonder”. I get it now. It has the perfect duality of simple and intricate. It is the physical manifestation of Shah Jahan’s love for Mumtaz. And looking at it from every angle shows you something different. While I would have loved to have spent a little more time admiring its beauty – I am just so glad I was able to visit such an amazing architectural feat. We later had dinner at a hotel and took the train back to Delhi.
For part of my grade for my Women in India class, I had to talk to someone about their social lifestyle in India. Since I was on the Semester at Sea trip, I really didn’t encounter too many people on my own. I decided to ask our tour leader Rajh some questions – which were incredibly eye opening and informative. He told me about his life in Delhi, which sounded very cosmopolitan and urban, not like the lives of the women in the villages we are reading about. He told me his family was in the process of selecting his future wife – and that arranged marriages were the duty of every Hindu man. I asked him if he found the love of his life, would he still allow his parents to arrange his marriage to a stranger. He replied, “I have loved already, that chapter is over, I now must fulfill my duty to my family.” He went on to say that his parents had “learned to love” each other and every day is a learning experience about the other person. This concept just seemed so foreign; but it was such a great conversations about the philosophy of love and duty and the differences in India and the United States.
The next morning we departed Delhi at 6am for our flight to Cochin to meet back up with the ship. It was one of the longest days of traveling I’ve ever experienced – every mode of transportation was delayed and took longer than expected. We finally arrived in Cochin late in the afternoon around 4pm and had to go through customs to enter the port. Cochin is located in the only communist state in India, which made customs logistically hard and time consuming. Every government agency in India is just a little disorganized. I kind of loved that about the country, but it did make traveling a little bit tough. Back in the southern part of India, it was so humid. I was so glad to get back to the ship for a real shower (with clear water).
On our final day in India I visited the SOS Children’s Village in Cochin in the afternoon. In the morning, Mckenzie, Kalyn, Sarah, Nicci and I ventured to find a local post office. We were told it wasn’t that far from the port, so we decided to walk and try and find it. The entire way there, there were 3 to 4 rickshaws following us, yelling “semesterrr, we’ll take you anywhere!” At this point, we’ve gotten pretty used to hecklers and persistent drivers and sellers – but India was really a whole new level. We eventually found the post office, and then had a little lunch a local restaurant. We all ordered something different; mine was sort of a pancake type crepe with potatoes and a spicy sauce on the inside. We then returned to the ship to get ready for our afternoon visit to the Children’s Village.
SOS Children’s Villages are orphanages that have been set up by UNICEF and are located throughout the world. After seeing the children in the train station in Delhi, I had to do some sort of service project while I was in India. We rode for about an hour and half to reach the village on the outskirts of Cochin. As soon as we stepped off the bus we were greeted by children with balloons, all coming up to us, holding our hands and greeting us so warmly. We were taken to their small outdoor auditorium where we each were painted with a bindi on the forehead and neck and given a full coconut to drink while we watched the children sing and dance. After their performances, we were taken to one of their homes. There are 20 houses located in the village, all with about 15-20 children living in each home. Their home is the center of their life, with all the rest of the children forming their family and all having one “mother” that watches over them. We sat on the floor and played, colored, and talked for about 2 hours that afternoon. The children in the house I visited were of all ages, but there were four young teenage girls, probably around the ages of 12 to 14, that I immediately connected with. They all spoke basic English and so I was able to really talk to them about their lives. They told me they had never seen “yellow” hair before, and just wanted to play with it and touch my skin. Before the trip, I got some really small plastic trinkets from Wal-Mart in Galax because I was told children on service trips would love having a little something. I passed out little rubber balls to the boys and little neon plastic rings to the girls and they loved them. I couldn’t believe how enamored these children were by such a small small thing. I talked to the girls about their life ambitions, what they wanted to do when they could not longer live in the village. One girl told me she wanted to be a nurse, and when I told her that my mom was a nurse, she beamed from ear to ear. I wish that I could remember her name, I want so badly to be able to write to her, keep up with her and know how her life progresses. It was a day I will never forget, I was completely amazed by these children. I also was amazed by their “mother” the kindest older lady I have ever met. What an amazing woman she was – to live her life in the service of these children who otherwise would have no maternal figure. That is the definition of love.
We returned to the ship later that evening and departed Cochin, India for Port Louis, Mauritius. My time in India was extraordinary. I have never been placed so far out of my comfort zone and been left with the implications of that. It made me consider my life, my small place within this massive world, and how lucky I am. While I think that my pre-arranged trip did limit my ability to really feel the culture first hand, I wouldn’t have been able to witness the incredible things I saw otherwise. With my love for history, Varanasi impacted me in ways I didn’t know that it would. I could feel the centuries of tradition around me, how much bigger these rituals were than you or me. I was witnessing history in action. The Taj Mahal is a masterpiece – and it deserves all of the recognition that it has ever received. I was in awe of its beauty, a structure that has no parallel. But my time in India was not defined by the sites that I saw or the pictures that I took – it was made by the people that I met and the conversations that I had. I will always feel incredibly lucky to have experienced those six days in India.
Everyone always says “this trip changes you – you will see.” I was waiting for the change, waiting for this big “ah ha” moment, when I would be a different person. I have learned it doesn’t work like that. It isn’t some cosmic shift in my personality, but tiny adjustments in how I view things within the world. India was the first time I felt my outlook being altered. Everything that I regarded within my frame of reference was questioned, considered and examined. I will always be indebted to India for showing me this, helping me to expand my outlook and slowly change how I view myself in relation to the world.
Friday, April 16, 2010
The Sea Olympics
On March 7, while at sea between Vietnam and India we celebrated the Sea Olympics. Every residential hall on the ship is divided into “seas”, sort of like our own dorm. There are about ten different “seas”, all having the name of one of the world’s seas. My hall, the Red Sea, competed against all the other seas in events all day long – from Simon Says, to synchronized swimming, pie eating contests, tug-o-war and a huge ship wide relay race. It was a nice break from classes and so much fun. There was an opening ceremony the night before and everyone got really into it. What was most exciting about the Olympics was the prize: the sea that wins gets to get off the ship first when we arrive in Fort Lauderdale on May 5th. While this didn’t sound like such an awesome prize to me, since I could stay on the ship forever, the prospect of not having to sit and go through customs all day long did sound nice. It was the most gorgeous day, clear skies and warm air – we were ahead of schedule so the Captain decided to anchor the ship in the middle of the Indian Ocean for the day. I can’t even describe how beautiful it was.
A few days before, we refueled the ship near the coast of Singapore, in the Straits of Malacca. The day that we were refueling, the Singapore government issued a terrorist warning for oil vessels operating in the Malaccan Straits –there is one section that narrows to just under a mile wide, this section has been known for is easy accessibility for pirates. It was all over CNN and the entire ship sort of buzzed with questions. The crew sped up the ship to over 24 knots, we hardly ever go that fast, to quickly get out of the area. We had armored ships on either side of us the entire time. It all turned out fine, and is a great story now – but at the time everyone was ready to get out of there.
But because of this incident, we were several hours ahead of schedule so we were able to just float the entire day – which was incredible.
There were different events scheduled throughout the day, each member of each sea having a different event. There was running scoreboard on every ship TV and we spent the majority of the day tied for about second place. Later, we won the ship wide relay but we had to wait until the closing ceremonies to see who was crowned the winner. Before closing ceremonies we had an incredible cook out on the pool deck. It was a night that I will always remember. I don’t know if I have really ever felt more content in life. All of us just sitting outside listening to awesome music, eating great food with wonderful people and watching the sun set as we floated through the Indian Ocean. What an incredible memory I will always have. I will remember how I felt, so happy, so lucky. I kept thinking “Why do I get to experience such an incredible thing right now? How did I ever get to be so lucky?” That feeling has been recurrent throughout the entire voyage, but it all culminated on this evening and I was completely touched by my complete surroundings.
After dinner we all proceeded to the Union for the closing ceremonies. We waited patiently as each sea was called with the point totals. Finally – it became apparent that the Red Sea was going to win! We were all so excited and when our name was finally called there was mass celebration. It was so much fun, one of the best days of the trip certainly. And on May 5th I will be one of the very first ones to touch American soil, hug my mom and start the process of entering the real world again.
A few days before, we refueled the ship near the coast of Singapore, in the Straits of Malacca. The day that we were refueling, the Singapore government issued a terrorist warning for oil vessels operating in the Malaccan Straits –there is one section that narrows to just under a mile wide, this section has been known for is easy accessibility for pirates. It was all over CNN and the entire ship sort of buzzed with questions. The crew sped up the ship to over 24 knots, we hardly ever go that fast, to quickly get out of the area. We had armored ships on either side of us the entire time. It all turned out fine, and is a great story now – but at the time everyone was ready to get out of there.
But because of this incident, we were several hours ahead of schedule so we were able to just float the entire day – which was incredible.
There were different events scheduled throughout the day, each member of each sea having a different event. There was running scoreboard on every ship TV and we spent the majority of the day tied for about second place. Later, we won the ship wide relay but we had to wait until the closing ceremonies to see who was crowned the winner. Before closing ceremonies we had an incredible cook out on the pool deck. It was a night that I will always remember. I don’t know if I have really ever felt more content in life. All of us just sitting outside listening to awesome music, eating great food with wonderful people and watching the sun set as we floated through the Indian Ocean. What an incredible memory I will always have. I will remember how I felt, so happy, so lucky. I kept thinking “Why do I get to experience such an incredible thing right now? How did I ever get to be so lucky?” That feeling has been recurrent throughout the entire voyage, but it all culminated on this evening and I was completely touched by my complete surroundings.
After dinner we all proceeded to the Union for the closing ceremonies. We waited patiently as each sea was called with the point totals. Finally – it became apparent that the Red Sea was going to win! We were all so excited and when our name was finally called there was mass celebration. It was so much fun, one of the best days of the trip certainly. And on May 5th I will be one of the very first ones to touch American soil, hug my mom and start the process of entering the real world again.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Vietnam
We arrived in Ho Chi Minh City on February 26 early in the morning – already in the sweltering heat. We had an on ship diplomatic briefing before clearing customs. Customs luckily moved pretty quickly and soon we were on our way to downtown. The port terminal in Ho Chi Minh City was located about a mile outside the center of town, so Semester at Sea had charter buses constantly running – which made navigating around town much easier. We were told by the Foreign Service officers to only take one type of cab in Ho Chi Minh City, Vinasun, because all the others wouldn’t use a meter and would rip us off. The traffic is insane. I can’t think of any other way to put it. I thought that the traffic patterns in China were bad, but HCMC is ridiculous. The roads were overflowing with motorbikes, the most common form of transportation. Vietnam is at the level of development where most cannot afford a car, so families rely on motorbikes. We were warned in preport to walk at the same speed the entire time we were crossing the street, because motorbikes would time their route around our walking. It was so hard not to just sprint across when a loud motorbike was flying straight towards us. After a few days I got the hang of it, but in the beginning it was a little scary. So upon our arrival to downtown, we were immediately in search of a Vinasun cab to take us to the War Remnants Museum, formally called the Museum of American War Crimes. We were told that this museum would give us another side to the story of the Vietnam War (The American War as it’s called in Vietnam). In our two days at sea prior to Vietnam we learned so much about the war, listened to stories of veterans on the ship and I tried to mentally prepare to visit such a war torn nation. It excited me for the opportunity to visit such an important nation in my country’s history. But I quickly learned that the war that preoccupies the minds and memories of so many Americans does not do the same thing for the Vietnamese. They have moved on from the war, rebuilt, developed and have tried to forget. Sadly, the war with the United States, while it killed 3 million Vietnamese – is only one of the many wars that Vietnam has had to endure in its extensive history.
I have mixed feelings about my visit to the War Remnants Museum. The majority of the displays were grotesque pictures and one-sided analysis of the horrific actions of the United States during the war. The pictures are undeniable. The crimes which were committed by American soldiers were horrendous and unforgivable. I gazed upon picture after picture of burning villages, mangled babies and completely destroyed landscape. There were so many photos that I would never see in an American history textbook, so many that we have been shielded from to protect our perceptions of our military action. But maybe it is because I am an American, but I was upset by the presentation of the museum. There was not one single picture of offensive Viet Cong action, no pictures of American soldiers suffering and no documentation of anything positive on behalf of the United States. I was disappointed by this one-sided propaganda, especially when I really wanted to learn the true Vietnamese perspective of the war. Is this what everyone thinks of it? Or was this just the government’s press release on how the American War should be understood? We later were able to tour the tiger cages where captured Viet Cong soldiers were kept. The soldiers were kept in the blistering sunlight all day – about 8 to 12 soldiers inside one very very small cage. I wish that I could describe the heat. The humidity along with the temperature made walking around pretty miserable – the thought of being locked in a cage with 11 other people during that heat is almost too much to think of. In the end, I don’t know how to characterize my feelings about the museum. I am horrified by my nation’s actions during this awful time in our history, but at the same time I am upset by the lack of full disclosure in which the information was presented. I left feeling guilty and saddened – upset but also amazed at how much Vietnam has developed since the 1960’s.
Later, we walked around the downtown part of Ho Chi Minh City and had lunch at Pho Noodles, basically local fast food. I had some delicious spring rolls and then we spent the rest of the afternoon lost in Ben Thanh Market. Ben Thanh Market is this unbelievably huge market right in central HCMC, everything possible was for sale, from food to artwork and clothing to knockoffs. The smells were so pungent and the shopkeepers were very persistent. Later, we ventured to the Rex Hotel – a beautiful old luxury hotel infamously known as the location from which the last US helicopters left when we pulled out of the war in 1975. The rooftop is a beautiful old bar with a wonderful 1960’s glamorous feel– I felt like Marilyn Monroe should be sitting at the next table.
The next day, I went on a Semester at Sea organized day trip to The Great Temple of Caodaism in the city of Tay Ninh and the Cu Chi Tunnels. It was about a 3 hour bus ride to reach Tay Ninh. We drove through miles and miles of countryside, which was such a nice change from the fast paced rhythm of Ho Chi Minh City. The countryside is beautiful with green fields of pasture as far as you can see. In the distance I could see men and women working hard in the fields, their tiny straw hats bobbing up and down. Along the roadside the entire way were small houses with shops in the front and residential homes behind them. Many children were out playing in the streets and old men sat in plastic chairs watching the traffic go by on the dirt roads. We had a traditional Vietnamese lunch at a local restaurant before visiting the Cao Dai temple for an afternoon service. Caodaism was founded in 1926 by Ngo Minh Chieu in an attempt to create the ideal religion. It fuses religious and philosophical traditions from the West and the East, including Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, Hinduism, native Vietnamese spiritism, Christianity and Islam. The main tenets of Caodaism include the belief in one God, the existence of the soul and the use of mediums to communicate with the spiritual world and ancestors. The Great Temple is considered to be one of the most unique and striking structures in all of Asia – and I would definitely agree. The eclecticism of the religion is showcased through the architecture of the Great Temple. It is constructed with brightly colored columns, with the all seeing eye serving as a focal point throughout the structure. At the front of the temple, the leaders of all the religions included are featured in a beautiful mural. We were escorted to the balcony of The Great Temple to watch the service. I felt like it was a little intrusive to watch such a special service and not really understand it, but at the same time I’m so glad I was able to witness something so spectacular. There were probably close to 300 people participating in the service, all sitting cross legged on the floor wearing white robes –which was such a beautiful contrast with the bright colors of the building. The higher clergy members wore different colors and were seated higher and closer to the front. We just quietly observed the service while musicians played the traditional music. It was one of the most beautiful religious ceremonies I’ve ever seen. I just kept thinking about the magnificent combination of religions and how these people had created a peaceful way to incorporate all of the major religious viewpoints of the world. While I still don’t fully understand all the tenets of Caodaism, I was blown away by this religion. The people were so hospitable and kind – I wanted to stay there for days and just ask them questions and learn more.
After our afternoon in Tay Ninh, we proceeded on the bus to the Cu Chi tunnels, about another hour away on the bus. Cu Chi is famous for its 200 kilometer network of underground tunnels used by the Viet Cong during the war. The tunnels were used as a base from which the Viet Cong could launch strategic attacks and then seemingly disappear into thin air. Most of the tunnels are only about two feet wide and five feet high, but some of the lower levels are even smaller than that. Upon arrival we were shown a replica cross-section of the network of tunnels. I am still amazed at how intricate they are. People could survive for weeks inside, with rooms for sleeping and eating, which were all connected to different pathways and exits. We were taken around a park type area where they also had on display the trap door tools used by the Viet Cong to capture American soldiers. They were awful contraptions, basically a hole in the ground with really sharp bamboo rods sticking up vertically. We then were given the chance to walk and crawl through the tunnels. I’m not really claustrophobic at all, so I didn’t think it would be a problem. But once inside, I don’t know how anyone could spend more than just a few minutes in there. Everyone grew anxious while crawling through the tight, dark space. It was really the first time I’ve ever felt really stuck in somewhere without a clear exit. Luckily our guide could sense our anxiety, which I think happens with every visitor after the first few minutes inside, and quickly moved us through to the nearest exit. I kept thinking about the soldiers who had to live in these tunnels in order to survive. That put things quickly into perspective for me. The ingenuity of the tunnels was amazing, especially how each room connected to another and how they were completely undetectable on land. I am so glad I was able to visit these tunnels. I made the war real for me. It was finally tangible in a way that it hasn’t been through books and lectures. Here I was standing inside the tunnels used less than 50 years before in a war that changed the landscape of world politics as we know it. We had about a two hour ride back to the ship and then had a wonderful dinner at a restaurant called Lemongrass in downtown Ho Chi Minh City. (I kept thinking about Lemongrass on the Corner – made me miss Wertland!)
Early the next morning we woke up to explore more of Ho Chi Minh City. We had heard that the Post Office and the Vietnamese version of the Notre Dame Cathedral were both beautiful, so we set off in search of both. Vietnam was colonized by the French, so a lot of Saigon (HCMC was previously named Saigon prior to the fall of Southern Vietnam) has a very European feel. They even created a replica Notre Dame Cathedral made out of red brick right in downtown – which is beautiful. We also visited the local Post Office which is housed in a beautiful old building. On the inside walls are huge murals of old maps of Vietnam, before and after the reunification of the nation. On the back wall, right in the center, is a huge portrait of Ho Chi Minh. We got some postcards and stamps and wandered around. We then made our way to the Reunification Palace or the “Independence Palace” as it is called by the Vietnamese government. The Reunification Palace was formally the home of President Diem – the American puppet president of South Vietnam during the war. After Diem was murdered, it became home to Nguyen Van Thieu, who lived there with his family until South Vietnam fell on April 30, 1975. It is here that the famous photos were taken of tanks plowing through big ornate metal gates, signifying Northern control of Saigon and South Vietnam. While it symbolically represents the end of the war, it is also a beautiful home and headquarters, which has been left untouched since the 1970’s. It was like stepping back in time. All the rooms were decorated in flashy art deco décor and really brightly colored carpet. It is just an unbelievable mansion with room after room for entertaining, including three separate dancing halls, for intelligence gathering, with a full military office underground, and the inner-workings of the South Vietnamese government. Each room had a unique feel, but all very dated. I loved that everything was kept just like it was. After our trip to the Reunification Palace, we had a wonderful lunch at a little café. We sat in the upstairs part of this tiny restaurant, near a fan – trying to get a short reprieve from the heat. It was such a relaxing and pleasant little French café, a welcome change from the type of establishments we have grown accustomed to. Later, we walked through more of HCMC and spent about an hour in a local park and botanical garden. We were really the only tourists there, and I felt like I was finally visiting a place where real residents of Ho Chi Minh City liked to congregate and hang out. We later figured out that this park was also a zoo, and there were several mistreated animals in tiny cages around the park. I could hardly handle looking at them, we left soon after. During our time in HCMC we discovered a little frozen yogurt place called Tutti Fruitti that we visited almost every afternoon during our stay. I think it provided us with just enough time out of the heat to keep exploring; otherwise I’m pretty sure we would have headed back to the ship earlier each day. Later that night we ate dinner at an outside restaurant called Pasteur Garden where they served food on a little barbeque right in front of us.
The next day, the majority of our group of friends had a day SAS trip so Mckenzie and I decided to get out of HCMC for the day and take the hydrofoil to a little fishing village called Vung Tao. The hydrofoil is a fast moving boat, shaped like the body of an airplane. We had assigned seats and were served breakfast just like a flight. The hydrofoil trip took about an hour and a half to reach Vung Tao. Vung Tao is known for its great fishing and beaches and is really just a quaint little town away from the hustle and bustle of Ho Chi Minh City. We had a little lunch of rice and chicken at a family restaurant right across the street from the hydrofoil station where we were asked if we would like a guided motorbike tour of the city for the day. Not really having any sort of plan, we agreed and hired two tour guides to show us around. They first took us to a giant Jesus statue, similar to the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio. We climbed what felt like a million stairs to reach this incredible statue, which overlooked the coastline. We were also able to climb inside the statue and stand on his shoulder, which was one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever seen. It was the perfect clear day. They later took us to the popular beach location in Vung Tao, followed by a trip to a local Buddhist temple. We were greeted by friendly monks who showed us around the entire compound. Looking incredibly out of place, we were stared at with confusion by temple goers the entire time. It was a beautiful temple; we removed our shoes and spent several minutes of silence with the monks in front of a large shrine to the Buddha. Even though we were separated by language, I could feel their warmth and welcome – it was so pleasant to be so nicely received. Later, we drove through the actual fishing village right along the coast. The sun was high in the sky as we looked out onto these huge fishing vessels pulling in tons of fish right from the sea. I wish I had a picture of that moment, as we rode by the ocean on one side and this fishing village on the other – a tiny road separating it. Lastly, we visited the White Palace, home to a French prince during colonialism. It was this immaculate house overlooking the ocean, all the doors and windows opened right out onto the sea and everything has been left in place just as it was. It was a beautiful way to end the day. Our tour guides took us back to the hydrofoil station where we told them goodbye and we bought our tickets back to HCMC. We had about a half an hour to spare before our trip, so had some Vietnamese fast food and relaxed inside the terminal. But to our dismay, as we were waiting to board our boat, we realized that our boat was by a different company than we thought and we watched it pull away from the dock. We ran to the operator who started yelling in Vietnamese, there was mass confusion and we quickly purchased new tickets for the last boat of the day, which was leaving in just a few minutes. They luckily had two seats on the last boat trip and we made it back to Ho Chi Minh City later that evening. The entire trip back McKenzie and I just sat there so glad that we made that boat back, I don’t know what we would have done otherwise. We later had dinner at a great restaurant called Al Frescoes that was recommended by David Vaughan and we prepared for our trip the next day to the Mekong Delta.
On our final day in Vietnam we woke up early to meet our tour guide for our independent trip to the Mekong Delta. The Mekong Delta is called the “lifeblood of Vietnam,” the place where a lot of the commerce in the south is centered. We drove for about two hours to get to the Mekong from HCMC and boarded a big barge type boat with a covered top and built in seats. The Mekong River is wide; several larger barge type boats could fit across it. We rode for about an hour, taking it all in, the homes along the shore, the murkiness and smell of the water and the people who make their living working on this river. Our first stop was at a coconut distribution plant, right on the Mekong river bank. There were probably about 20 people working underneath one large tarp type area, each person with a distinct job. They cut the coconut, drained it, shelled it and separated all the parts of the coconut. I was amazed by their efficiency, and how sustainable it was to somehow use the whole thing! (Sustainability is the theme of our voyage) After leaving the coconut plant, we then went to a salt plant, located just a little down the river. There were just huge vats of salt water where people sift through the water to retrieve the salt. Later, we stopped at a brick manufacturer, where we were walked through each step in the process of making clay bricks right from the river. We then visited a family for a little while in a home right on the banks. They showed us how to make straw mats and we enjoyed some strained conversation and wonderful exotic fruit. The entire time we were there, the largest spider I’ve ever seen hung in the corner of the wall, right above the table. It was all I could do to focus on the family and not the spider; I had an inner dialogue with myself the entire time not to freak out. Afterwards, we took motorized rickshaws to our lunch location – which was basically just an open tent area in the woods. We had incredible food, including an entire Elephant Ear Fish for the table, which definitely could have fed nearly 20 people (there were only 6 of us). Elephant Ear Fish is this large fish that is fried and then served entirely. It was so beautiful I felt a little bad eating it. Following lunch we finally were able to board tiny wooden canoes for our trip down the narrow backwaters of the Mekong. We were given the traditional Vietnamese straw hats to wear because the sun reflecting off the water was really hot, and we just sat in the base of the canoe, as a little elderly lady steered us through the canals. The water is totally brown, and on each side are tall reeds of bamboo and other shrubbery growing all around. It was quiet, peaceful and beautiful. Afterwards, we bicycled through a small neighborhood for late afternoon tea with another family. Following tea, we bicycled back to meet our van to take us back to HCMC. We biked through the crowded streets, where I think all of us got a little overwhelmed by the traffic and people. Just biking was slightly scary; I can’t imagine trying to maneuver a motorbike through the traffic. Our tour guide looked back at us several times and just laughed, as all of us were struggling to keep up and not be totally overtaken by all the traffic. It was definitely an experience. We then headed back to the ship and we departed the next morning at 0600.
I loved Vietnam. And I love that I feel like I saw a cross-section of the country, at least in the South. After visiting Vietnam, I have a new reference point in relation to the War. Overall, the people were so welcoming and open. It feels like the nation is on the brink of development, real economic growth and major change. I would love to go back and visit Vietnam later in my life and see the changes that have occurred. I will never forget all the beautiful things I saw, the adventures in Vung Tao with Mckenzie and just really exploring on our own. It’s been a few weeks now since our trip to Vietnam, and Mckenzie and I were discussing our favorite memories so far, and we both just kept coming back to Vietnam. How happy we were, how beautiful it was and what awesome memories we will forever take away from the five days there. I had incredible experiences each day – and I’m so proud of how much we saw and accomplished on our own. They say that it’s the people that make this trip special, and Vietnam proved that to me.
I have mixed feelings about my visit to the War Remnants Museum. The majority of the displays were grotesque pictures and one-sided analysis of the horrific actions of the United States during the war. The pictures are undeniable. The crimes which were committed by American soldiers were horrendous and unforgivable. I gazed upon picture after picture of burning villages, mangled babies and completely destroyed landscape. There were so many photos that I would never see in an American history textbook, so many that we have been shielded from to protect our perceptions of our military action. But maybe it is because I am an American, but I was upset by the presentation of the museum. There was not one single picture of offensive Viet Cong action, no pictures of American soldiers suffering and no documentation of anything positive on behalf of the United States. I was disappointed by this one-sided propaganda, especially when I really wanted to learn the true Vietnamese perspective of the war. Is this what everyone thinks of it? Or was this just the government’s press release on how the American War should be understood? We later were able to tour the tiger cages where captured Viet Cong soldiers were kept. The soldiers were kept in the blistering sunlight all day – about 8 to 12 soldiers inside one very very small cage. I wish that I could describe the heat. The humidity along with the temperature made walking around pretty miserable – the thought of being locked in a cage with 11 other people during that heat is almost too much to think of. In the end, I don’t know how to characterize my feelings about the museum. I am horrified by my nation’s actions during this awful time in our history, but at the same time I am upset by the lack of full disclosure in which the information was presented. I left feeling guilty and saddened – upset but also amazed at how much Vietnam has developed since the 1960’s.
Later, we walked around the downtown part of Ho Chi Minh City and had lunch at Pho Noodles, basically local fast food. I had some delicious spring rolls and then we spent the rest of the afternoon lost in Ben Thanh Market. Ben Thanh Market is this unbelievably huge market right in central HCMC, everything possible was for sale, from food to artwork and clothing to knockoffs. The smells were so pungent and the shopkeepers were very persistent. Later, we ventured to the Rex Hotel – a beautiful old luxury hotel infamously known as the location from which the last US helicopters left when we pulled out of the war in 1975. The rooftop is a beautiful old bar with a wonderful 1960’s glamorous feel– I felt like Marilyn Monroe should be sitting at the next table.
The next day, I went on a Semester at Sea organized day trip to The Great Temple of Caodaism in the city of Tay Ninh and the Cu Chi Tunnels. It was about a 3 hour bus ride to reach Tay Ninh. We drove through miles and miles of countryside, which was such a nice change from the fast paced rhythm of Ho Chi Minh City. The countryside is beautiful with green fields of pasture as far as you can see. In the distance I could see men and women working hard in the fields, their tiny straw hats bobbing up and down. Along the roadside the entire way were small houses with shops in the front and residential homes behind them. Many children were out playing in the streets and old men sat in plastic chairs watching the traffic go by on the dirt roads. We had a traditional Vietnamese lunch at a local restaurant before visiting the Cao Dai temple for an afternoon service. Caodaism was founded in 1926 by Ngo Minh Chieu in an attempt to create the ideal religion. It fuses religious and philosophical traditions from the West and the East, including Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, Hinduism, native Vietnamese spiritism, Christianity and Islam. The main tenets of Caodaism include the belief in one God, the existence of the soul and the use of mediums to communicate with the spiritual world and ancestors. The Great Temple is considered to be one of the most unique and striking structures in all of Asia – and I would definitely agree. The eclecticism of the religion is showcased through the architecture of the Great Temple. It is constructed with brightly colored columns, with the all seeing eye serving as a focal point throughout the structure. At the front of the temple, the leaders of all the religions included are featured in a beautiful mural. We were escorted to the balcony of The Great Temple to watch the service. I felt like it was a little intrusive to watch such a special service and not really understand it, but at the same time I’m so glad I was able to witness something so spectacular. There were probably close to 300 people participating in the service, all sitting cross legged on the floor wearing white robes –which was such a beautiful contrast with the bright colors of the building. The higher clergy members wore different colors and were seated higher and closer to the front. We just quietly observed the service while musicians played the traditional music. It was one of the most beautiful religious ceremonies I’ve ever seen. I just kept thinking about the magnificent combination of religions and how these people had created a peaceful way to incorporate all of the major religious viewpoints of the world. While I still don’t fully understand all the tenets of Caodaism, I was blown away by this religion. The people were so hospitable and kind – I wanted to stay there for days and just ask them questions and learn more.
After our afternoon in Tay Ninh, we proceeded on the bus to the Cu Chi tunnels, about another hour away on the bus. Cu Chi is famous for its 200 kilometer network of underground tunnels used by the Viet Cong during the war. The tunnels were used as a base from which the Viet Cong could launch strategic attacks and then seemingly disappear into thin air. Most of the tunnels are only about two feet wide and five feet high, but some of the lower levels are even smaller than that. Upon arrival we were shown a replica cross-section of the network of tunnels. I am still amazed at how intricate they are. People could survive for weeks inside, with rooms for sleeping and eating, which were all connected to different pathways and exits. We were taken around a park type area where they also had on display the trap door tools used by the Viet Cong to capture American soldiers. They were awful contraptions, basically a hole in the ground with really sharp bamboo rods sticking up vertically. We then were given the chance to walk and crawl through the tunnels. I’m not really claustrophobic at all, so I didn’t think it would be a problem. But once inside, I don’t know how anyone could spend more than just a few minutes in there. Everyone grew anxious while crawling through the tight, dark space. It was really the first time I’ve ever felt really stuck in somewhere without a clear exit. Luckily our guide could sense our anxiety, which I think happens with every visitor after the first few minutes inside, and quickly moved us through to the nearest exit. I kept thinking about the soldiers who had to live in these tunnels in order to survive. That put things quickly into perspective for me. The ingenuity of the tunnels was amazing, especially how each room connected to another and how they were completely undetectable on land. I am so glad I was able to visit these tunnels. I made the war real for me. It was finally tangible in a way that it hasn’t been through books and lectures. Here I was standing inside the tunnels used less than 50 years before in a war that changed the landscape of world politics as we know it. We had about a two hour ride back to the ship and then had a wonderful dinner at a restaurant called Lemongrass in downtown Ho Chi Minh City. (I kept thinking about Lemongrass on the Corner – made me miss Wertland!)
Early the next morning we woke up to explore more of Ho Chi Minh City. We had heard that the Post Office and the Vietnamese version of the Notre Dame Cathedral were both beautiful, so we set off in search of both. Vietnam was colonized by the French, so a lot of Saigon (HCMC was previously named Saigon prior to the fall of Southern Vietnam) has a very European feel. They even created a replica Notre Dame Cathedral made out of red brick right in downtown – which is beautiful. We also visited the local Post Office which is housed in a beautiful old building. On the inside walls are huge murals of old maps of Vietnam, before and after the reunification of the nation. On the back wall, right in the center, is a huge portrait of Ho Chi Minh. We got some postcards and stamps and wandered around. We then made our way to the Reunification Palace or the “Independence Palace” as it is called by the Vietnamese government. The Reunification Palace was formally the home of President Diem – the American puppet president of South Vietnam during the war. After Diem was murdered, it became home to Nguyen Van Thieu, who lived there with his family until South Vietnam fell on April 30, 1975. It is here that the famous photos were taken of tanks plowing through big ornate metal gates, signifying Northern control of Saigon and South Vietnam. While it symbolically represents the end of the war, it is also a beautiful home and headquarters, which has been left untouched since the 1970’s. It was like stepping back in time. All the rooms were decorated in flashy art deco décor and really brightly colored carpet. It is just an unbelievable mansion with room after room for entertaining, including three separate dancing halls, for intelligence gathering, with a full military office underground, and the inner-workings of the South Vietnamese government. Each room had a unique feel, but all very dated. I loved that everything was kept just like it was. After our trip to the Reunification Palace, we had a wonderful lunch at a little café. We sat in the upstairs part of this tiny restaurant, near a fan – trying to get a short reprieve from the heat. It was such a relaxing and pleasant little French café, a welcome change from the type of establishments we have grown accustomed to. Later, we walked through more of HCMC and spent about an hour in a local park and botanical garden. We were really the only tourists there, and I felt like I was finally visiting a place where real residents of Ho Chi Minh City liked to congregate and hang out. We later figured out that this park was also a zoo, and there were several mistreated animals in tiny cages around the park. I could hardly handle looking at them, we left soon after. During our time in HCMC we discovered a little frozen yogurt place called Tutti Fruitti that we visited almost every afternoon during our stay. I think it provided us with just enough time out of the heat to keep exploring; otherwise I’m pretty sure we would have headed back to the ship earlier each day. Later that night we ate dinner at an outside restaurant called Pasteur Garden where they served food on a little barbeque right in front of us.
The next day, the majority of our group of friends had a day SAS trip so Mckenzie and I decided to get out of HCMC for the day and take the hydrofoil to a little fishing village called Vung Tao. The hydrofoil is a fast moving boat, shaped like the body of an airplane. We had assigned seats and were served breakfast just like a flight. The hydrofoil trip took about an hour and a half to reach Vung Tao. Vung Tao is known for its great fishing and beaches and is really just a quaint little town away from the hustle and bustle of Ho Chi Minh City. We had a little lunch of rice and chicken at a family restaurant right across the street from the hydrofoil station where we were asked if we would like a guided motorbike tour of the city for the day. Not really having any sort of plan, we agreed and hired two tour guides to show us around. They first took us to a giant Jesus statue, similar to the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio. We climbed what felt like a million stairs to reach this incredible statue, which overlooked the coastline. We were also able to climb inside the statue and stand on his shoulder, which was one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever seen. It was the perfect clear day. They later took us to the popular beach location in Vung Tao, followed by a trip to a local Buddhist temple. We were greeted by friendly monks who showed us around the entire compound. Looking incredibly out of place, we were stared at with confusion by temple goers the entire time. It was a beautiful temple; we removed our shoes and spent several minutes of silence with the monks in front of a large shrine to the Buddha. Even though we were separated by language, I could feel their warmth and welcome – it was so pleasant to be so nicely received. Later, we drove through the actual fishing village right along the coast. The sun was high in the sky as we looked out onto these huge fishing vessels pulling in tons of fish right from the sea. I wish I had a picture of that moment, as we rode by the ocean on one side and this fishing village on the other – a tiny road separating it. Lastly, we visited the White Palace, home to a French prince during colonialism. It was this immaculate house overlooking the ocean, all the doors and windows opened right out onto the sea and everything has been left in place just as it was. It was a beautiful way to end the day. Our tour guides took us back to the hydrofoil station where we told them goodbye and we bought our tickets back to HCMC. We had about a half an hour to spare before our trip, so had some Vietnamese fast food and relaxed inside the terminal. But to our dismay, as we were waiting to board our boat, we realized that our boat was by a different company than we thought and we watched it pull away from the dock. We ran to the operator who started yelling in Vietnamese, there was mass confusion and we quickly purchased new tickets for the last boat of the day, which was leaving in just a few minutes. They luckily had two seats on the last boat trip and we made it back to Ho Chi Minh City later that evening. The entire trip back McKenzie and I just sat there so glad that we made that boat back, I don’t know what we would have done otherwise. We later had dinner at a great restaurant called Al Frescoes that was recommended by David Vaughan and we prepared for our trip the next day to the Mekong Delta.
On our final day in Vietnam we woke up early to meet our tour guide for our independent trip to the Mekong Delta. The Mekong Delta is called the “lifeblood of Vietnam,” the place where a lot of the commerce in the south is centered. We drove for about two hours to get to the Mekong from HCMC and boarded a big barge type boat with a covered top and built in seats. The Mekong River is wide; several larger barge type boats could fit across it. We rode for about an hour, taking it all in, the homes along the shore, the murkiness and smell of the water and the people who make their living working on this river. Our first stop was at a coconut distribution plant, right on the Mekong river bank. There were probably about 20 people working underneath one large tarp type area, each person with a distinct job. They cut the coconut, drained it, shelled it and separated all the parts of the coconut. I was amazed by their efficiency, and how sustainable it was to somehow use the whole thing! (Sustainability is the theme of our voyage) After leaving the coconut plant, we then went to a salt plant, located just a little down the river. There were just huge vats of salt water where people sift through the water to retrieve the salt. Later, we stopped at a brick manufacturer, where we were walked through each step in the process of making clay bricks right from the river. We then visited a family for a little while in a home right on the banks. They showed us how to make straw mats and we enjoyed some strained conversation and wonderful exotic fruit. The entire time we were there, the largest spider I’ve ever seen hung in the corner of the wall, right above the table. It was all I could do to focus on the family and not the spider; I had an inner dialogue with myself the entire time not to freak out. Afterwards, we took motorized rickshaws to our lunch location – which was basically just an open tent area in the woods. We had incredible food, including an entire Elephant Ear Fish for the table, which definitely could have fed nearly 20 people (there were only 6 of us). Elephant Ear Fish is this large fish that is fried and then served entirely. It was so beautiful I felt a little bad eating it. Following lunch we finally were able to board tiny wooden canoes for our trip down the narrow backwaters of the Mekong. We were given the traditional Vietnamese straw hats to wear because the sun reflecting off the water was really hot, and we just sat in the base of the canoe, as a little elderly lady steered us through the canals. The water is totally brown, and on each side are tall reeds of bamboo and other shrubbery growing all around. It was quiet, peaceful and beautiful. Afterwards, we bicycled through a small neighborhood for late afternoon tea with another family. Following tea, we bicycled back to meet our van to take us back to HCMC. We biked through the crowded streets, where I think all of us got a little overwhelmed by the traffic and people. Just biking was slightly scary; I can’t imagine trying to maneuver a motorbike through the traffic. Our tour guide looked back at us several times and just laughed, as all of us were struggling to keep up and not be totally overtaken by all the traffic. It was definitely an experience. We then headed back to the ship and we departed the next morning at 0600.
I loved Vietnam. And I love that I feel like I saw a cross-section of the country, at least in the South. After visiting Vietnam, I have a new reference point in relation to the War. Overall, the people were so welcoming and open. It feels like the nation is on the brink of development, real economic growth and major change. I would love to go back and visit Vietnam later in my life and see the changes that have occurred. I will never forget all the beautiful things I saw, the adventures in Vung Tao with Mckenzie and just really exploring on our own. It’s been a few weeks now since our trip to Vietnam, and Mckenzie and I were discussing our favorite memories so far, and we both just kept coming back to Vietnam. How happy we were, how beautiful it was and what awesome memories we will forever take away from the five days there. I had incredible experiences each day – and I’m so proud of how much we saw and accomplished on our own. They say that it’s the people that make this trip special, and Vietnam proved that to me.
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