JOURNAL from MARY MAGOULICK’S TRIP AROUND THE WORLD
SPRING 2005 Semester at Sea Voyage GO TO Semester at Sea Official Website (to learn more about the program)
Sections of the Voyage (skip to a particular section by clicking on these links)
I worked as a faculty member on the Spring 2005 Voyage of Semester at Sea, teaching English and Anthropology classes. I departed Milledgeville January 12, 2005 for San Diego, CA. Faculty and Staff were scheduled to board the MV Explorer in San Diego January 14, 2005. I spent a few days in San Diego before our departure since I’d never been to California before. We sailed to Vancouver to meet the students there January 18, 2005. During our first four days of sailing from San Diego to Vancouver, we participated in an orientation.
Our trip was scheduled to take us to Korea, Japan, China, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Indian, Kenya, South Africa, Brazil, Venezuela, and then back to Florida on April 28, approximately 100 days at sea, about half on the ship, sailing and teaching, and about half in ports, on various excursions related to the program and our specific classes.
As you will read in the following accounts, we had an accident at sea about 10 days out from Vancouver. This involved a harrowing night and morning, and then a diversion to Hawaii for repairs. After missing our first two scheduled ports, our voyage continued (by air at first) with China being our first “port” of call after Hawaii. Our repaired ship met us in Vietnam and the journey continued as scheduled from there.
Here are my accounts of events as they unfolded. Most of these accounts were originally written as email journals to a group of family and friends.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Hi,
Just a quick note to let you all know that I'm in San Diego as of yesterday. The hotel I was in was a dive (an old YMCA) – but cheap and well located – just down the street from where our ship is docked actually (on Broadway Pier). This morning I was walking down by the dock just to see where the ship would be and figure out how to board tomorrow. Our ship (the Explorer) was already there and I actually was allowed to board today. It was all sort of unbelievable, and not really what I was supposed to do. But a woman from the port authority just kind of suggested and facilitated it, and once I was there, the SAS people allowed it (though there was a tense moment when I thought they would turn me back – with all my heavy, bulky, cumbersome luggage). Anyway, I boarded early and found the ship to be very lovely and luxurious (from what I saw). I did not stay on board long because since I am not really supposed to be there until tomorrow, I don’t want to make any “waves.”
As far as San Diego goes, it is sunny and lovely as advertised. I've mostly been walking around – the gaslight district, the port area(s), and old town. I've had some GREAT Mexican food, also as expected. I met a few other faculty today (we had arranged it in advance). We walked around together for several hours and went to old town.
Anyway, I can't wait to get underway tomorrow. I do have a window in my room (as I was hoping I might), and two little beds. So far, so good. I had such heavy luggage, but it barely fills my closets and drawers. I have plenty of room to expand. I plan to take a trolley tour of the city tomorrow morning, then most of the faculty and staff will start arriving and boarding around 1 pm, so I’ll be back at the ship then.
Hope you are all well. More soon(er or later),
Mary
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Hey everyone,
We landed last night at Canada Place right downtown Vancouver after four days of sailing and going through our orientation, which was pretty interesting. Most interesting, I guess, was getting to know the other faculty and staff and getting a feel for the ship and life at sea, though we’ve been told life as we’ve known it for the last four days will change drastically once the students come aboard. So far we’ve had this whole beautiful ship to ourselves with only about 100 people. The students are boarding today – long lines of them were waiting with all their mountains of luggage when we (faculty and staff) left the ship for a sample excursion (or “field program”) today. This optional field trip is to the museum of anthropology on the campus of the University of British Columbia. We are scheduled to depart to cross the Pacific to head for Korea this evening. Right now I'm in the UBC student lounge using free computer email, but I have to run to the museum for our tour that starts in five minutes.
So this will be brief. All is well. I thought my room was so luxurious at first (because it has a window), until I found out that all the other faculty have much nicer places, including a living room area, a wall size window, and even little private decks in some of the rooms. They all have suites and I have a student dorm type room. There are two other faculty in rooms like mine, but all the rest are in much nicer suites. Oh well, my room is still pretty nice. The ship is beautiful all over, affording many great views of the ocean that is always all around us (at least while we’re at sea). It’s a new and interesting sensation to be moving all the time. So far it's been too cold to go outside much. We have been seeing dolphins most days at lunch, but no whales (yet). We had one really rough morning (yesterday), where we were rocking wildly and things kept flying and rolling around the room – I guess it was when we were going through some straits to get to the bay that Vancouver is in. But I have not experienced any kind of sea sickness yet. I did experience weird sea legs once I got on land, meaning my mind can't stop the rolling feeling of the ocean. So I feel like I’m still swaying all the time – I still feel it now. Apparently it lasts a day. It’s making me anxious to be sailing (and really moving) again.
Well, unfortunately I have to leave this free connection to run to the museum, which sounds great. I have no time to proof this, so forgive any errors. Hope you're all well – the other faculty and staff seem quite nice so far.
Best, Mary
January 22, 2005
Hey everyone,
If this is your first report and you have not heard from me in a while, I'm teaching for a program called Semester at Sea.
On our new home, the MV Explorer (our ship), we are all starting to get into the rhythm of life at sea and in this unique floating community after over a week on the ship. We had faculty/staff orientation the first four days, then we docked in Vancouver and picked up the students. As we were told it would several times during orientation, life as we knew it on the ship changed drastically with the addition of 665 students. So far they’ve been pretty nice and enjoyable. We all eat together and share much of the vessel. We were advised to try to share meals with students most of the time, and usually this is enjoyable, perhaps because at this point (before any stress of classes has taken hold), everyone is in a good mood, still anticipating hopefully the great journey we’ve begun. Breakfast is a meal most students skip (I guess because it’s so early), so it’s mostly faculty and staff then.
Everyone is friendly and in a good mood. We are all equally excited about all we will see and do. I’ve met students from many states, including Michigan, Virginia, Indiana, and other places I’m familiar with, but I don’t think we have a single student from Georgia. There are two other faculty from Georgia, one a history professor from Agnes Scott College (Atlanta) and a wonderful biologist from a community college down South. But as far as I can tell, no students are from Georgia (or at least none are going to school there), and I’m not sure why. Actually, there don’t seem to be many students from the South at all – except Texas.
The ship is new and shiny and very nice – 7 decks with up to 100 rooms per deck I think (and a few decks have no rooms). Most of the classrooms and public areas are on decks 5, 6, and 7. Decks 2, 3, and 4 are where the students live, and deck 1 is where the crew lives (and part of Deck 2). I am on Deck 5, forward and port. I have 2 small beds, a wall unit with a decent sized closet and “dresser,” some nightstands between the beds, a very small desk with a drawer and a phone (intra-ship only), a small round glass table and chair, and a wall unit with some shelves (one of which holds my little television; the other holds my books) and some drawers. Two of the “drawers” are actually a refrigerator (small dorm sized one). The woodwork of the desk, furniture and closet is a light tan, the walls are off-white, and the floor is carpeted with navy blue carpet with little white stars on it. There are blue patterned bedspreads too. There’s a bland, abstract picture in a frame on one wall, and a good-sized window and tan patterned curtains. There is a little half wall between the beds and the window. I have my own bathroom, with very nice features, including a good, strong shower spray. The ship was built in Germany, so it’s got all the nice German engineering details.
Before we got it, the ship was used as a cruise ship in Greece – a small one. So there is also a lot of Greek stuff around – like Greek inscriptions about life (especially life at sea) on some of the public panels, Southern European outlets in the cabins (also one standard US one), and the luxury rooms (where most of the faculty are) are “named” cabins (meaning the rooms themselves have names, in Greek, like “Zambouli.” I think they may be names of flowers on our deck). My room is not named. In terms of the rooms, some of you asked about whether the other faculty who are in the nicer rooms have spouses or family with them. Most of them are here with spouses, and some even have children. But there are also five or so faculty in the nicer rooms who are single. There are only 3 of us faculty in the smaller student rooms – I assume they just ran out of the nicer ones. All of us who have the smaller rooms are the “younger” faculty. Most of the faculty are older – some retired, most in their 50’s or above.
Vancouver seems like a potentially beautiful city, but it was cold, rainy, overcast, and foggy most the time we were there. We could not even see much as we sailed into or out of port because of the fog. Then we had to brave the cold and rain to get into town, while we were there. We got quite soggy on our trip to UBC and the anthropology museum – which has a beautiful collection of Northwest Coast Native art that I enjoyed seeing. On the way out of the harbor, we had a somewhat better view of the city and Victoria Island (I think that’s what it’s called). It was evening, so we saw a lot of lights.
The weather has been a significant factor so far. We had only about a half hour of rough seas up to Vancouver, but since we left Vancouver, it’s been bad, as in stormy, with big swells, usually at least 15-30 feet. The first night out we were tossed around in rough seas all night and then most of the next day. Over half the students, staff and faculty were hit pretty hard by sea sickness. But the next night was much worse. We hit a very intense storm, with 75 mile per hour winds. It woke us up around 2 am and literally tossed everything about pretty wildly. I was thrown across the room (bed and all) before I realized how bad it was. I scooted myself and my bed back into place, and held on as we kept being thrown about. My drawers kept flying open and shut, open and shut, toward one side of the room, then the other side of the room as we rolled dramatically from port to starboard over and over. These banging drawers made a loud, predictable rhythm of noise that kept me wide awake in spite of how sleepy I was. I had prepared before going to bed by putting everything in drawers, on the floor, and otherwise in “safe” (battened down) locations. But this storm surpassed all expectations. It really felt sometimes like we were going to go over. There was a lot of damage. Many dishes were broken in the galley, trays and furniture was overturned all over the ship. And the grand piano in the union (where we have all our ship-wide meetings) was literally broken off at the legs and the top part went tumbling around the union. It’s still in the union, the legs sticking up jaggedly and forlornly where they were bolted down, and the top part lay flipped on its back in the middle of the floor. It stays there during Global Studies and meetings in the union as a persistent reminder of the intensity of that night.
But we all made it through, though not without even more motion sickness casualties. I took Meclizine (medicine for motion sickness) the one night (the first rough one) when I woke up nauseous, but my total discomfort lasted only about 45 minutes (until the drug kicked in I guess). Mostly I’ve been handling it pretty well. I seem to be more able to adjust to the constant rocking motion than most people. Also my room is at the front of the ship, which means it moves about MORE than most other parts of the ship. But I do alright with it – at least so far. Many people on board seem to be pretty seriously affected, wearing patches behind their ears or taking Meclizine (an anti-nausea medicine), which they give out for free at the clinic on board. Actually they have two bins on the wall outside the clinic. One is filled with Meclizine and the other is filled with condoms. Seasickness is a very widespread problem right now. Often during class or meals or other times, you’ll see people running for the bathrooms. There are also vomit bag stashed around for those who don’t make it to the restrooms.
Anyway, the morning after our really crazy night, we learned how much damage had been done on the ship. Breakfast was delayed because of all the damage in the kitchens, and many people reported that TVs had been ripped right off of platforms they are bolted to in every cabin (the TVs are used to show videos for us at night – nature films, travel films, and feature movies most nights). But the most dramatic casualty was that grand piano in the main large “lounge”/classroom. There are 2 other pianos on board. The only damage I and my things sustained was that my glasses got a little scratched up on one of the lenses, which is pretty annoying, but I can live with it. By the way, we were told by the deans, NOT to send anyone back home drastic reports of what happened because they don’t want the Pittsburgh office to be inundated with phone calls from anxious families. I’m certainly fine.
The wild rocking of the ship is a bit like an endless, mild roller coaster ride. When the ship is rising up, you feel sort of weightless, and going up stairs is easier. But when the ship comes back down (a few seconds later), it feels much harder to move and pick up your feet—like no gravity, too much gravity, back and forth. Everyone is still getting used to the new motion, holding onto railings and learning to adjust gaits. Apparently we’re training new sets of muscles, even just to sit in a chair or sleep. I think as a result of this (at least partly), we’re all very sleepy very often. At least I am. And I’ve talked with others about it quite often, how sleepy we are and how many naps we need. Of course, it’s hard to sleep at night when the ship is throwing your bed about the cabin, so that could be a factor too! Everyone has stayed in pretty good spirits I think.
The ship-board life is pretty interesting to observe. Students gather all the time in all the public places, playing games, studying, playing musical instruments, working on computers, or just talking. It’s kind of like being in an enclosed, isolated village – except that it’s mostly people from one age group.
We’ve completed teaching three days of classes so far. We have A days and B days (in terms of class days). We teach everyday at sea – no weekends. So tomorrow – Sunday – I teach my B day course – anthro). Two of my classes are full (women and lit & myth, symbol, ritual). The other (immigration lit) is smaller, but since it’s an upper level English class, 22 students is plenty.
We have been losing an hour a day, which makes it sort of hard to keep track of what time it is back home – I think we’re seven hours behind the East Coast now. Days and normal schedules are starting to mean less and less, and our schedule here (A day or B day, in port or at sea) is the reality. And so far it’s been pretty much at sea (except for our one day in Vancouver).
We arrive in Korea in another 7 or 8 days. We’ll be there 4 days, then we go to Japan, which takes only a day. Then we have very little time at sea between all the rest of our ports (usually five or six days or less). Right now is our longest period at sea. Unfortunately crossing the North Pacific in winter has proven to be less than ideally conducive to intensive study. But so far, my students have been very good. Most seem to be keeping up with the readings and discussing things well, even in these most trying conditions. Most of those afflicted by motion sickness seem to be recovering now.
The faculty have all been invited to dinner with the captain tonight – starting with cocktails at 7:30 in the “faculty/staff lounge” – one of the nicest areas of the ship, up one deck 7 fore, with a great panoramic view (students are not allowed in, much to their dismay). The dinner should be nice, as long as I don’t have a big slab of meat placed before me. There have in general (at our usual buffet meals) been plenty of vegetarian options. The food is good, but not great. We’ll get more exciting fare in port, I’m sure.
Do drop me a note to let me know how things are back home. And let me know if you have any specific questions.
Peace, Mary
January 25, 2005
Hey everyone,
Seas are still rough as we slowly cross the Pacific and teach classes everyday. We have all gotten used to walking in zigzag patterns, crashing into walls and each other, tipping over in chairs in classrooms, and having food and drinks come sliding onto us in the dining hall as the seas continue to toss us about. It’s very tiring, but it seems like most people have learned to deal with it most of the time. Lots of people have bruises from falling and crashing into things. I’m doing okay, though I’m weary of the relentlessness of both the storms and the workload. We’re all talking about how nice it will be to get to Korea and (hopefully) some stability. When we landed in Vancouver, I still felt like I was swaying all the time (we were there a day). I wonder if I’ll long for the movement of the ship when we’re on dry land again.
Some of you asked about the program, so I’ll give a brief overview. Semester at Sea is run by the Institute for Shipboard Education, which is housed in and affiliated with (as in accredited by) the University of Pittsburgh. Students and faculty come from universities all over the states and a few other countries. The ship has been turned into a “floating university” with classrooms, a union, a library, computer lab, etc. It’s a voyage not a cruise, a ship not a boat, and definitely an adventure (so far only in teaching in trying conditions). We will visit 10 countries in this order: Korea, Japan, China, Hong Kong, Viet Nam, India, Kenya (& Tanzania), South Africa, Brazil, Venezuela, and then back to Florida (we started in San Diego – faculty/staff, and Vancouver – students). I’m teaching 3 classes, Women and Literature, Immigration Literature, and an anthropology course called “Myth, Symbol & Ritual.” Classes are capped at 35 students, though I have some faculty and staff’s family members (of which there are probably 30) and seniors (the “ancient mariners” of which there are 18) sitting in my classes as well. But they’re about 35 students max.
There is also a “core” course called Global Issues, which everyone on board takes. It’s a geography course that teaches about all the cultures we’re going to see. There are probably over 300 seats in the “union” (a big lounge), and that’s where the course is taught from. But it can be watched on closed-circuit TV’s in all the other classrooms and some public areas (like one of the dining halls). Students have to be in one of those places, “attending” class, unless they are in their cabins, which they are supposed to be only when they are sick. The deans wander the halls during global studies to make sure everyone attends. Most recently, the lectures (mostly by Robert Fessler, who normally teaching psychology at Point Park University in Pittsburgh), have been focused on Japan, Buddhism, Confucianism, and manners. Robert’s sole responsibility is this course, but other faculty give guest lectures from time to time.
While in ports, we (students included) are supposed to coordinate our activities with our classes. There are a significant number of in-port excursions that are planned and run every semester by the field office and others activities are coordinated by faculty on each voyage. Since I have not done any of these field excursions yet, I can’t describe them in much detail. Most seem to be planned and run by tour countries in each of the countries we’ll visit.
I’ve signed up for a number of promising in-port activities like seeing Beijing and the Great Wall of China, seeing Hanoi and Halong Bay (in addition to Saigon where we dock) in Vietnam, and a safari in Africa (in the Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania).
I got a partially paid leave of absence from Georgia College to do this. I will be back in Georgia by the end of April – teaching 2 summer courses. This is the first time the program has followed this route across the north Pacific in winter. Usually the ship sails East in the spring (starting from the Bahamas) and West in the fall (starting from Vancouver). They switched that this time so that the ship will be in the Atlantic for the summer voyages – for which they want to go to Europe. So this crossing of the N. Pacific in winter is (we’ve heard) an experiment. I and many people I’ve spoken with here suspect that the next time they will go with a more southerly route, leaving from Ensenada, Mexico (which we were originally scheduled to do) if they go West in the spring again. It’s unclear why we left from Vancouver instead. But the rockiness of the voyage so far has not been conducive to good teaching, and thus doesn’t seem like a wise route for this voyage.
We have 665 students (who, I think, seem much better than average – maybe good students are more motivated to do this). There are also 2 deans, 25 faculty, 18 seniors (senior citizens who pay to come along as passengers), 30 or so family members (of faculty and staff), and quite a few staff (30 or so) including a doctor, 2 PA’s, one nurse, 2 counselors, about 8 or 10 RD’s, and various assorted others (librarians, registrar, field office staff, I.T. people, bookstore people, AV expert, videographer, etc.). Someone asked what the other faculty are like. They are mostly much older than me and mostly couples. But many are very nice, and there are a few that seem like potential good friends. I have not really noticed any “problem faculty” yet, though I’ve been advised that there are always one or two on every voyage. All three of our deans are women, and all seem good so far.
This long first crossing period will probably prove to be the most tedious and difficult part of the journey. Someone also asked about the food we eat. It’s institutional, and some days are better than others. The vegetarian option is usually pasta, vegetables and salad (meaning ice-berg lettuce). There are beans fairly often too. And sometimes there are vegetable soups or casseroles, or even veggies burgers, or tacos (with beans). The food is bland, mostly, and already I’m starting to see that we see the same few things over and over (especially for vegetarian options).
One of the fun things on the ship is that our communications are largely through announcements (an actual, live voice). So we have a noon announcement everyday telling us about our position (latitude and longitude), the sea conditions, weather, whether or not to set our clocks back an hour that day, what movies will play that night, what other events might be happening, and so on. And we also get a “dean’s memo” daily that tells about things going on around the ship, which to some extent repeats (or confirms) the noon announcements. I’ve been leading a yoga practice every morning from 6-7 am. In the evening there are talks anyone can give on any subject, called “community colleges.” Thus far these talks have included a range of topics from journal writing – I did that one – to Buddhism, photography, meditation, “the wonders of Hawaii,” and lots of others. There are also “family nights” – you can be assigned a “family” of about 6 people you commit to have meals with and so on regularly. This series of consistent and pervasive interactions and a general more up-close and personal communication system makes life here feel like a real community.
I think that’s enough for now. There should be lots more to report once we hit our first port. Actually we learned that our time in Korea might be reduced by a day because this crossing has been so hard on the ship that we’ll have to strop on Hokkaido (in Japan) to refuel. I don’t think we’ll be allowed off the ship there (since it’s only 4 hours), but maybe we’ll get some nice views at least.
I think we lose a day tomorrow as we cross the International Date Line. But we gain it back an hour at a time all the way around the world. We’re already about 8 hours behind you on the East Coast.
Peace, Mary
NOTE – LATER THIS NIGHT WE HAD AN ACCIDENT IN THE NORTH PACIFIC
The accident happened during the “lost night” of January 26/27. It was lost because we had crossed the International Date Line, losing one whole day (skipping from the 25th to the 27th). But after the accident we crossed back over the date line, putting us back a day. So the accident occurred the 26th/27th of January in the middle of the night. I was woken up at about 1 am from the intensity of the storm and the rocking in my cabin. It was very loud (drawers and thunder crashing) and kept me awake the whole night, during which I mostly tried hold and minimize damage to me and my cabin. A more detailed account follows below.
January 27,2005
From my sister Eileen Kroll:
I am Mary's sister and official contact person in the event of emergencies for her Semester at Sea excursion. As such, I want to update those of you on what is happening, as there have been reports on the national news and radio stations concerning their situation. Mary is on a ship called the MV Explorer and we have all received reports from her about the rough weather conditions. Unfortunately, the situation is critical. I have received emails from the Univ. of Pitts. Semester program that the ship has run into gale force winds and severe storms with waves exceeding 50 feet. Yesterday, the U.S. Coast Guard was notified and has now coordinated a rescue and response effort. The ship has lost power and is now operating in emergency conditions on one engine. The semester at sea communiqués have indicated that everyone on board remains safe and they have been properly prepared for an emergency evacuation. The Coast guard has issued a press release about this and the information has been picked up by some of the national news agencies, which is why I have decided to post this email.
The Coast Guard's press release has indicated that a 50 foot wave broke the bridge windows and damaged bridge controls and injured two crewmembers. They have also indicated that the ship is currently operating on one of its four engines, which can only keep the ship's bow into the heavy seas. Apparently the crew is using emergency steering to maintain the course. The coast guard is in constant communication with the ship. There is a Coast Guard Cutter that has left from Alaska to assist the Explorer and three Coast Guard HC 130 long range aircraft have been sent to the area. The plan at this time is for the ship to be diverted to Midway Island. Currently they are about 800 miles from Midway and it is expected that it will take them another 3-4 days to reach Midway.
When the ship initially lost power, MAYDAY signals were sent to other vessels in the area and the Coast Guard has indicated that they are coordinating with four other merchant vessels to divert and assist.
I will repost further information once I receive it. At this time, I don't know what will happen once the ship reaches Midway.
Please say prayers for the safety of all those aboard.
Later that day/night (also sent by my sister):
Hi Everyone: I have received another update on the condition of the ship. We have been told that the weather remains a significant factor but that the seas are somewhat calmer with waves only 15-20 feet (which is a drastic improvement from the 50 foot swells). The students and faculty have been allowed to return to their rooms and are attempting to get some sleep. The captain has given high praise for the resiliency and courage displayed by all. The communications remain crippled but they are attempted to make satellite phones available so that the passengers can phone their loved ones at home. Thus far, we haven't heard from Mary. I suspect that the students are being given first access to the phones.
At the present time the ship has regained the use of a second engine and is currently sailing at approx 10-11 knots. They have told us that their position in the Northern Pacific remains at 40 degrees 51 minutes North and 178 degrees 48 minutes East. This position has changed very little since last night's update. You can visualize ship's position by accessing Mapquest. It's basically in the middle of the Northern Pacific.
It has been decided that the ship will head for Hawaii. My impression is that they want to be able to dock in a full port in order to assess the damage to the ship and determine what repairs can be made or what accommodations will be necessary. At this point, the Univ of Pitt has indicated that no decisions have been made with regard to how this will impact the rest of the semester or whether the excursion can be continued.
They also do not yet know how long it will take the ship to reach Hawaii. They have promised to update the information tomorrow. Indeed, the communiqués have indicated that they will provide estimates and port information as soon as possible.
In the meantime, we have been assured that the passengers remain safe and unharmed. The Coast Guard remains in control of the situation and they are very hopeful that things will continue to improve.
On behalf of my mother and the rest of my family, I want to personally thank all of you who have written, called and kept Mary and the rest of the passengers in their thoughts and prayers. I am a firm believer in the power of prayer and positive energy. Jen was right when she wrote me earlier and said that Mary is probably having an adventure of a lifetime and it will be interesting to hear her perspective! I will post another update as soon as I receive more information.
Thanks again!
Eileen
From a colleague (John Cox) (same day) sent to our departmental list at the college where I teach:
Melinda,
>
>You might send this link out the department, too:
>
>http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,145554,00.html
>
>John
January 28, 2005
From Eileen Kroll (sister)
Hi Everyone: We have received another update and once again have been told that everyone on board the ship remains safe and in good spirits. Unfortunately the weather will continue to be a significant factor for the next 48 hours. They tell us that after the storm clears, it should be much smoother sailing as the ship makes its way to Hawaii for an assessment of damage.
We have not heard from Mary at this time. I really believe that the faculty must be deferring the use of the satellite phones so that the students can get a hold of anxious families at home. Communications otherwise remain down and I don't know when Mary will be able to email us.
They have not provided the latest latitude and longitude coordinates so I'm not sure how quickly they are expected to make port in Hawaii. They have indicated that two engines are running and carrying the ship at normal speed for these weather conditions. The Coast Guard has told the Univ of Pitt that it considers the speed to be "normal." The Coast Guard Cutter that was dispatched from Alaska has not yet reached the ship but is planning on escorting the ship to Hawaii.
Thanks again for the continued prayers and positive thoughts and I will post updates as I receive them.
Eileen Kroll
News story from the Pittsburgh paper. http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/pp/05028/449224.stm
January 29, 2005
From my colleague David Evans:
HI Everyone,
This is David Evans, Mary's department chair. I just got a call from Mary an
hour or so ago (we've been having our own problems here in Georgia with ice
storms, fallen trees, and power and internet outages, so we've been disconnected
for several hours) and she reported that things seem to be going pretty well.
She sounded tired but OK and not stressed out (that I could tell from the pretty
poor satellite phone connection).
Apparently, the current plan is for them to sail to Honolulu and evaluate the
ship. Mary said that there's been an idea floated to fly the students maybe to
China and just have them stay there some extra time if they can fix the ship,
and then have the ship sail after them and pick them up and resume the
itinerary.
We only talked for about a minute, so that's about it. The interesting thing too
is that Mary didn't even know whether this whole incident has been in the news.
They've been completely disconnected from the outside world except for the
satellite phone. For awhile they were navigating with some students'/faculty's
little portable GPS systems and compasses.
Wow.
Anyway, Mary really did sound as though things were basically OK at this point.
Best, David (and thanks to Eileen for the earlier updates!)
From my sister Eileen (same day):
Thanks for the info David. We also heard from Mary again and she seemed less subdued than last night. She also assured my mom that she is unharmed. The latest ISE update has indicated that one of the faculty is suffering from complications of their injuries. Needless to say, we were worried. But obviously the faculty (to whom ISE is referring) isn't Mary.
For those of you who are monitoring the Explorer's position, the latest coordinates are 32 degrees 29 minutes North and 168 degrees 11 minutes West.
We also have a cousin who lives in Honolulu and Mary is planning on contacting him as soon as she gets to Hawaii.
I will keep you posted on more news as we receive updates.
Thanks again everyone for the positive thoughts and prayers.
Eileen
No email contact throughout all this period until January 31, 2005.
FIRST MESSAGE I WROTE
AFTER THE ACCIDENT
January 31, 2005
Hey everyone,
We're in Hawaii, although not yet off the ship. I'm completely fine. It was a scary night, but I was not physically hurt in any way, nor were the majority of others. One faculty member may have a broken rib, a collapsed lung and possibly other complications, but even she seems better the last few days, although I think she’s on a lot of pain meds and has mostly been on bed rest. A few crew members were also hurt fairly seriously. But apart from that, I've only heard of cuts, scrapes and bruises, mostly not too serious.
We started teaching again and resumed mostly normal activities the day after the event. The students have been pretty resilient and focused for the most part. It has been beautiful weather these last few days, which is great for all our spirits. We are finally able to go out on decks. It’s like a whole other voyage now. We’ve seen whales and birds and dolphins. And everyone (well, mostly the students) are stripping down and enjoying the sun and warmth. This morning everyone was out on deck very early, trying to spot land. We could see mountains through the fog or haze, I think from other islands. Then as we got closer, people who know Hawaii started pointing out landmarks. Eventually we were sailing up to Honolulu harbor, with some very well-known landmarks like Diamond Head Crater. It took a pretty long time (several hours) from when we first saw land until we were actually docked. The coast guard came on board sometime this morning and looked around to assess the damage on the ship. And then as we got closer the pilots from the port came on board to help us dock (this is common procedure in every port). You might wonder how people boarded us while we were at sea. It was pretty cool -- we were able to watch it happen in several cases. Basically they drive a zodiac craft right up next to the ship. The ship crew has a door open, I think on Deck 2, and someone from the little boat grabs a rope they hold out from the ship and just steps across onto the ship. We saw about 7 coast guard men leave the ship this way as we got very close to port, and also saw the Pilot come on board the same way.
So—we definitely have had an adventurer so far, which is what we signed up for, though I’m sure none of us anticipated THIS adventure. I will send a fuller report later. But I just wanted to drop a quick note so you know all is fine right now. We are docked and no longer moving. We can see land and the city all around us, but we have to deal with immigration, customs, and the press before they let us off – probably not for many hours (we were told last night in various briefings). Then we will definitely have at least 5 days here in Hawaii to enjoy ourselves. After that, all remains unclear. Mainly the Coast Guard and others have to assess our damage to see if and when we can be repaired and under way again. I and most people on board have been in good spirits – ready to continue if that's an option. So please don't worry.
I'll write again soon.
Love, Mary
Some sample responses from friends and family:
Yea! Jeff and I were beside ourselves with worry, Mary! I'm so glad you're in safe. I talked with your mother a couple of times, who was upset but bearing up. And Eileen was great at keeping everyone informed of what she could find out. We are all so relieved, I can assure you!
Thank goodness you're in—and in Hawaii for a few days instead of Midway!
Lots of love,
Jen
Dear Mary,
Very happy to hear from you! Your situation had sounded so dire. It must have been quite harrowing. So happy to hear you've arrived in Hawaii. I'm sure your family was very relieved too. I felt so bad for you after all your excitement and preparations that your trip should start out like this. I guess they'll not be taking this route in the winter again any time soon.
But, hey, Hawaii's not a bad place to divert to, especially if you have family there. Do you get to quit teaching for a few days? That schedule sounded grueling.
Love,
Kellie
Hey Mary,
I think you now have boasting rights as the saltiest sailor at GCSU.
-Jason
Hi Mary.
I'm really glad you're doing okay. I've always wanted to go to Hawaii, but that's hardly how I'd want to end up there! After I got your sister's first message, I started to write the following message, but never sent it because I wasn't sure it was in good taste ... I figure it's okay to send now.
-----
I got your sister's message, and damn I hope you're alright. I immediately went searching for news, and found little more than what your sister had sent. Having read four news articles I did find one that I hope you'll appreciate in hindsight ...
“They should be coming out of the storm at any point now,” Smith said in an interview. “No one is in eminent danger.”
My dictionary does define "eminent" as "distinguished; notable; remarkable in degree." I suppose the latter could actually apply, but I don't think that's what they meant to say. The rest of the article is pretty much the same as the others I read and won't tell you anything you didn't already know, but just in case:
http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=10000087&sid=aypV.m70QWLE&refer=top_world_news
I'm really sorry this has happened, and it's probably going to make a mess(financially, academically ...) of at least the next semester. I hope you're doing okay. I'm guessing you'll be back in M'ville soon - give me a call if you want, let me know if there's anything I can do to help.
--Giles
BACK TO MY ACCOUNTS
February 1, 2005
Hey again,
Things here are going well. We finally got off the ship last night after some debriefings from the ISE people. We were "lei'd" as we got off the ship (had leis draped around our necks), and it felt very good to be on dry ground. A few people got down on their hands and knees and kissed the (to my mind) disgusting blacktop of the dock area -- "the ground." We walked around for a while, got ice cream, some people got Starbuck's coffee or pizza, and then some of us went to Borders. It all felt incredibly surreal to me, being back in a more or less normal U.S. environment. This seemed odd not only because we'd been through such an intense accident and long period at sea, but also because we'd been geared up for traveling around the world and seeing other cultures for so long. I don't think any of us planned to see the States again so soon. But none of this is to say we did not enjoy being in Honolulu. I met my cousin Andy who lives in Hawaii there and we drove around for a while, in the dark and rain. Apparently we brought the rain with us, as it rained hard last night and this morning.
Tonight they are throwing a Luau for 720 of us at some private beach. Should be nice, I hope. Tomorrow I'm going on an around-the-island-tour with some other people from the ship (with planned stops for snorkeling and other attractions). Thursday I'm going on an SAS planned trip to the "Big Island" (Hawaii). And then my cousin is taking me hiking somewhere on Friday. So it should be a nice week.
I'll try to attach my description of the event. It's long and I have not proof read it very carefully. But if you want to plow through it you can. . . .Okay, looks like I'll have to send that later, since this computer won't let me open my file.
All is going well.
Thanks for all your good wishes,
Mary
February 2, 2005 (from a friend at IU)
For an interesting article on the problems of the Semester at Sea ship:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6896878/
BACK TO MY ACCOUNTS
February 4, 2005
Hey everyone,
Things are going well in Hawaii. I'm enjoying my time here. We still don't know what the future holds, if the program will continue or not, though the latest forecast looks promising.
This (attached) is my account of what happened. Maybe you saw word of it on the news, maybe not.
Thanks for all your notes of encouragement and support. Please forgive any sloppy writing in my account. I have not spent much time on the computer lately.
I'm really fine,
Mary
I wrote this before we arrived in Hawaii – it’s long, and actually it was written over several days.
January 30, 2005
Dear family and friends,
By now you’ve heard of our ordeal at sea. Although we heard it’s on the news, we have been mostly cut off from the outside world except for a few satellite phones on board the ship (and which I've had very limited access to). Probably you have heard or imagined all kinds of things – some of which may exaggerate, some of which may underplay what we actually experienced.
I think it was the night of the 25th, 5 nights ago, that “it” happened. I’ve been noticing that most people on board have taken to calling it “that night” or “it,” or “the event,” though we may yet decide to call it something else once time has passed [later—many people came to call it “the accident” or maybe most popularly “The Wave.” There was “Before The Wave" and "After The Wave” to distinguish parts of the voyage].
Early in the evening (just a few hours after I composed my last email of January 25) the captain made an announcement about the weather and our situation. Ironically, he told us it was good news, and that we’d have a much smoother night and calmer seas ahead of us because a hurricane to the South would push us in the right direction. I for one went to bed feeling relieved because we’d really been through more than enough rough seas and bad conditions, it seemed.
At about 1:30 am I was awoken by the violence of the ship’s movement – though it may have been going on for a little while before I noticed it. Once again (like previous nights with bad seas), my drawers were slamming open and shut very violently, my bed was sliding around (with the other furniture), and I was struggling to stay in the bed and out of the melee. This went on for a long time and seemed to get worse and worse as the hours crept by. Virtually everything in my room except the permanently attached things (like walls and shelves) was moved or thrown about. The beds slid around, the nightstands were knocked off their supports and fell over (previously I had not been able to budge these even when I tried), the heavy, round glass table kept falling (I righted it a few times) and rolling about. The chairs (2) were sliding and tipping all over. The metal, round garbage can and its lid rolled madly, and the drawers and refrigerator never stopping slamming open and shut. Every time it seemed a bit calmer, I would get up and try to right things, push the beds back into place and jam things together so they might not fall again. But this was futile and dangerous because I was being thrown about too, and banged myself up a couple of times on furniture (never seriously). So then I tried to stay in my bed, with the light on, and just held on to the ledge/half wall in front of my window. Sometimes I had to hold with all my might to keep from getting thrown from my bed or with my bed. Even holding tight with both hands, I was once or twice pulled away and slid with my bed across the room, being jammed up under the attached desk faster than I knew it was happening. The scariest thing was when the TV – normally on a high shelf across from the beds – came flying off its stand toward me. Luckily the second bed had already slid into the center of the room and made a perfect landing place for the TV, which then bounced from there to the floor and was one more thing rolling around. I tried to secure it too, but without much success.
It feels hard to explain what it was like because you probably imagine all this happening in your room, but your room is not violently shifting and rolling. Really it was all I could do to hold on and try to keep myself from getting injured. We’d tilt crazily in one direction and the TV would slide toward the door, where one chair was turned over and wedged and I’d worry they’d collide and the tube would break. Then the TV would slide back in the other direction, the drawers would slam shut, and I’d worry the TV would smash the glass table that was also rolling around, but it would be blocked by the spare bed sliding in front of it. Meanwhile the drawers were continuously and loudly banging open and shut, and I had a tight grip on my windowsill to try to keep from being thrown off the bed or have the bed slide into the melee.
Anyway, I go on at some length
because this lasted for several hours. The captain finally came on the PA system
around 4 am to tell us that we had encountered an unexpected storm, that they
knew conditions were difficult, that we had to stay in our cabins (many people
had apparently gone into hallways and public areas because they did not think
their rooms were safe), and that he was doing his best to steer us through it
and find calmer waters. So we kept hanging on. About 5 or 5:30 am we seemed to
finally be slightly more stable. We were told to clean up our rooms and stay
put. The crew and some staff then came around to every room to check to see if
anyone was injured or overly traumatized. I think I must have dozed until they
knocked on my door about 6:15 am. I straightened up my room yet again – we were
still rocking, but not quite so violently and I was hoping this meant the storm
had abated. A little before 7 am the captain again came on the PA system to tell
us we were going to turn back into the wind to stay on course for Japan. He
talked us calmly through the turn and assured us that from then on we’d be okay,
and it would not be so bad, that the ship could take it. But it was still
rocking pretty crazily in my room. Although I had straightened up most of it,
the TV was still on the floor. I was trying to hold that while we continued
rocking and rolling. Then I thought I smelled smoke (I later learned this was
probably the exhaust from our turn), and about that time the foghorn sounded,
and didn’t stop. That’s when I started feeling concerned. So I began to get
dressed, NOT an easy task in the again violently rolling condition of the ship.
In fact as I was trying to get dressed, I was thrown pretty violently all the
way across the cabin. My shin got bruised on the bed corner, but the bed kind of
broke my fall and I landed on it. I later learned that at about the time the
foghorn blew is when the wave hit that smashed in the bridge window and shorted
out the equipment that controls the engines. Without engines in those still
violent seas, we were being tossed about extremely. That’s why I got thrown
across the cabin so violently. I got right back up and continued to try to get
dressed, having to brace myself against the wall and hold onto the closet door
and whatever I could as I struggled to dress in those conditions.
Shortly thereafter our assistant dean, Ken, whose voice we’d already grown quite
familiar with (he made all our announcements) came on the PA system sounding
noticeably shaky. Later we learned he had been on the bridge when the wave
crashed through – flooding it and causing destruction, sparks, even fire, and he
had had to run back to his office to make the announcement. His announcement
told us to put on our life vests and to proceed to the hallways outside our
rooms. Because he sounded genuinely afraid (I thought), I felt afraid, really
for the first time (rather than just annoyed) that whole night. As I listened to
that announcement I thought we were probably going to die. But I was also
already focused on somehow trying to survive, which meant finishing getting
dressed and getting my life vest on and out into the hallways as quickly as
possible, tasks made harder by the additional worry. I finished dressing in warm
clothes and put on socks and shoes, which we’d already learned we were supposed
to wear during two previous life-boat drills. As soon as I finished tying my
shoes, I grabbed my life jacket (stored in my closet in my room), remembered to
grab my room key (a card) and started into the hallway while I was still putting
on the life vest. I made it into the hallway – even doing that was difficult
because of our continual, violent rocking from side to side. No one else was in
the hallway, and my immediate thought was that I was too late, and everyone else
was already in the lifeboat. But as I moved toward our lifeboat exit other
people started coming out of their rooms too – it turned out I was the first one
out. Rebecca came out first (the biologist), then Trish and Andrew and their
kids, and then most of the other faculty and staff who were in that hall. None
of us showed hysteria or much obvious, outward concern. The children did
seem scared, but even they were relatively calm and attentive. Their parents
were very organized and calming. In fact, I think having children there made us
all try to hold it together, to keep them calm and focused positively. We all
gathered near the end of that little hallway where we lived, close to the door
to our lifeboat. We were told to sit down, hold on, and stay calm. Not everyone
from our hallway was in the hall, so we knocked on doors to check on them. Three
rooms of people (one couple and two single people) said they were staying in
their cabins and would not join us in the hall. And they did stay in their
cabins through the whole event, though we checked on them periodically.
Some people had thought to bring food, water, and other supplies (like aspirin and bandages) with them from their rooms, and in fact one woman in our hallway was injured and required care. Trish (the Mom) gave her a sanitary napkin from her little medical pack that worked pretty well to stop the blood from her wound. Pat had what looked like a serious gash on her leg from where her TV had fallen and pinned her against her bed. Roberto Gomez (2nd mate) came to check on us and told us he’d send us one of the medical staff, who did eventually come by, but deemed Pat in no immediate need of attention. I sustained only very minor bruises and scrapes, most from those periods during the night when I kept trying to straighten things up or keep my bed from rolling.
So there we all were in the hallway, wondering what would happen next. Would the ship turn right over? The intense rocking and rolling did not let up. We seemed to be rolling to at least 45 degree angles from starboard to port.
It’s hard to describe and even fully remember what I felt and what it was like during that first half hour in the hallway. I was sure that at any moment we’d be told to proceed to our lifeboats. And I couldn’t imagine how we’d make it from the door, across the deck to our boat without being thrown into the still violent ocean that was tossing around our ship – we were literally tipping to such an extent that I was sure most of us would slide right into the ocean if we went out on deck (where the lifeboats are). Plus it was still raining very hard and it was very windy. I also couldn’t imagine how our little lifeboats could possibly fare better than the big ship in those violent seas. I kept thinking of that book, The Life of Pi, which I’ve read, and wondering if I could do all the things Pi did to survive after his shipwreck.
But these were only moments of thoughts and feelings. For much of the time I felt MUCH better being out in the hallway and with other people. Our hallway of people was great, I thought. Everyone near me stayed very upbeat and calm, and kept offering explanations of how we would get out of this (the coast guard would come, other ships would come, we would get the engines started, etc.). I also thought it felt better to be wedged into a hallway where no objects or furniture were rolling about so wildly and dangerously as they had all night in my cabin. We all sat with our backs tight against one wall, and our feet wedged against the opposite wall. We were still being pushed into both walls and had to use our balance and muscles to stay in this one position, but having two walls to brace against and no furniture potentially slamming into us, made it seem much easier and safer.
All during this time we could hear the furniture behind the walls slamming against the walls and doors we were wedged in against. There was constant loud banging and crashing, even more violently than before. We would roll in one direction and hear the furniture behind the wall going tumble, tumble, tumble, CRASH. Then as we rolled back in the other direction, we’d hear it tumble, tumble, tumble, CRASH against the opposite wall. It sounded like even worse crashing than what I’d dealt with all night, maybe because I was outside the dean's office, which had a lot of furniture and file cabinets and so on..
Through all this, my feelings alternated from a kind of blankness inside, maybe not wanting to acknowledge the situation, or realizing there was nothing I could do about it, to brief moments of terror and anxiety that we would be dying at any moment. Much of the time I felt intensely focused on the particular moment and the fact that we were alive and well right then and there. I would think, “I’m sitting here in the hallway next to everyone else, and right now in this moment I’m dry and warm and safe.” As more and more of those moments added up, I experienced less and less of the more terrified or empty kind.
Not too long after we came into the hallway on our deck (Deck Five, where the lifeboats are), the captain ordered all the students below decks to come up to deck 5. This was probably about 15 minutes or so after we were first told to proceed to the hallways. Once the students and some staff who live in those decks came up it was very crowded and noisy on Deck five. Although the students came right up to our hallway, none of them actually came into our hallway (in which only faculty, staff and seniors live). Since I was at the end of the hallway, nearest the door leading into the purser's square areas (because I had been the first out of my room), I ended up with a few students sitting on the other side of me. The students filled all the other hallway areas and purser’s square. Those who were right in purser’s square had fewer ways to brace themselves because the “square” (which is actually circular) is a wide open area and a good part of it has a slippery marble-like floor surface. So they were still getting thrown about – or more accurately they were sliding about as the ship lilted at sharp angles. Our ship’s videographer, Jerry, had his big camera out on a tripod and was taking video of this area; in fact he was set up right in front of me (I was behind the camera for a while). These images he shot of the students sliding across purser’s square were later shown on many news programs.
Overall, I thought the students stayed in remarkably good spirits, singing, telling jokes, and not panicking (at least as far as I could see and hear). I later heard that there were people crying or praying or showing stress. But I did not see or hear that.
One good thing is that we’d already been through rocky seas for a week, so most people were over their seasickness. The crew were all around us too, all of us with big orange life jackets. Some of the officers (the engineers, etc.) kept coming through our particular little faculty/staff hallway, in heavy rainy gear, soaking wet, because our hallway was one way to get to the bridge. They’d come running through with wrenches and other tools in their hands, telling us not to worry; they were getting it fixed. We’d all scoot and make room for them each time and try to get a brief report on how it was going. They were incredibly focused and nice, I thought, telling us their efforts and progress.
Eventually (maybe 40-45 minutes into it), a few people in our hallway said they felt the vibrations through the floor that meant an engine was started and they seemed hugely relieved that we would be okay. Shortly thereafter the captain came on the PA system again and explained what had happened. According to him, a wave taller than the bridge (they now say at least 55 feet high) hit the bridge in just the right way to smash in one of the bridge windows, which flooded the bridge and shorted out most of the equipment, which controls the engines, etc. We later learned as well that miraculously the two things that did not get shorted out were the two that were absolutely necessary to keep the ship running and helped us survive – the stabilizers and the communication system. Once the engineers got an engine restarted manually, we thought we were probably okay.
Although much of this was
explained only days afterward, the experienced sailors in our hallway seemed to
know most of it as it was happening. Again, they were very reassuring. Not long
after the first engine was started (maybe another half hour) a second one was
started. When we felt those vibrations through the floor we all felt assured
that we’d be alright, especially as the engineers were still coming through our
hallway confirming this. We ran on two of four engines from there to Hawaii, I
think mostly to conserve our limited supply of fuel (we were already low on fuel
from fighting storms and had planned to stop earlier than planned in Japan to
refuel before our first planned port of Korea). Anyway, once those engines were
started, and we weren’t fighting the storm (because our new direction was South
rather than West), we seem to be sailing along just fine.
We had to stay there in the hallway for another 4 ½ hours, probably until they were
absolutely sure we were “safe” – or maybe until they patched up the holes in the
windows on the bridge (which they did right after getting the engines started –
again we learned this from the crew men running through our hallway to the
bridge).
During those hours in the hallway, we were brought some food (mostly fruit) and water from the kitchen. Some people also took turns holding open the door onto the outside deck, because the ventilation system wasn’t working (it seemed), and it was getting hot and stuffy – maybe they were worried about us running out of air. In our little hallway, we talked a little, shared food and water people had rummaged for, sat and stared, and eventually slept (all scrunched up on the floor in odd positions and with our life jackets still on – which made lying down awkward). Some people in our hallway continued going in and out of our rooms, wrecks though they were, to get food or drinks, change clothes (it got VERY hot in the halls and we were dressed as per our instructions in warm clothes), and to use the bathrooms. All these were very brief forays. I went into my room once – briefly – and was amazed by how much worse it was than even after the worst moments the night before. I changed to a short sleeved t-shirt quickly, got some water, and left again.
Many of the students seemed to be showing stress, or its aftermath by talking a lot, telling jokes, and generally making noise. But at some point the safety door at the end of our hallway closed and the dimming of the noise allowed us to sleep, if briefly and not too deeply. We were incredibly exhausted, not only from the hallway/lifejacket ordeal but also from the sleepless night before, and probably from the aftermath of an adrenaline surge. Finally around 13:00 (1 pm) we were awoken by an announcement from our now much calmer assistant dean (Ken) and told to go back to our rooms and clean up as best we could. Broken glass was to be reported to stewards and pursers immediately, and all other damage or injuries should also be reported. My room seemed like a wreck, but it didn’t really take me that long to clean it, although there was broken glass and plastic (from the TV I think) all over the floor, so I had to be careful cleaning that up. My plumbing all worked fine (some people’s didn’t) so I took a shower, which felt incredibly good and oddly normal. I was also starving, so I ate a granola bar I found in a drawer, and drank a bunch of water.
I did not want to stay in my room alone. In fact I was afraid of my cabin – I kept reliving how my furniture had flown around dangerously just a few hours before. So I went out to purser’s square (just down the hallway and kind of the center point of the ship). Many people were there, some reporting damage or talking, others just hanging out there. The kitchen brought down a big tub of simple sandwiches and fruit (just a slice of cheese between two slices of bread). I ate one of these sandwiches and it tasted incredibly good. I guess adrenaline makes you hungry. I was in purser’s square for about an hour, I think, during which time I saw a lot of people and a number of interesting encounters – people crying and hugging each other, some people yelling at each other, people showing off bruises and scrapes, talking about how trashed their rooms were, and many people coming up to the purser to report damage to their cabins (the most common complaints were no plumbing or no electricity). The chief purser talked to me for a while about how much damage her office sustained. Then she opened the door and showed me. Everywhere on the ship literally looked like a tornado had been through it. She had a 500 pound safe on the middle of her desk and furniture and papers everywhere. I took some pictures the next day showing some of the devastation, but even by then much of it had already been cleaned up. It’s incredible that five days later we were really almost back to normal.
I spent that afternoon with friends – I accompanied one injured friend to the clinic to get a gash on her leg cleaned and bandaged. Turned out she should have had stitches earlier. In the clinic, as I waited while she was treated, the medical staff showed me how much damage they’d suffered – much expensive machinery and equipment (like the x-ray machine and microscopes) was ruined. Like so much of the ship, it was chaotic, files and papers, and bandages, and stuff just everywhere. But the staff was in good spirits, and had gotten the clinic in good enough order to treat most people, which mostly meant bandaging and reassuring people (there were only a few patients while I was there). The kitchen managed to serve a dinner that night of hot dogs, chicken, salad and French fries (and a Jell-O dessert), which was comfort food to many of the students.
I and many others worried whether we’d be able to sleep in our cabins, because we were afraid of them, of our memories of the night before there. But the community really banded together. The people on our hallway with kids were having their kids sleep in the room with them, so they made their kids’ room (across the hallway) a storage room for all the items we did not want in our rooms. We moved my glass table and TV down there (along with the same items from others on our floor), and another friend lent me duct tape with which I taped everything else I could think of into place – including the dreaded drawers that had banged so alarmingly loud all night. Some friends offered to let me sleep in their room, but I stayed in my cabin. When I lay down, at first every little swell or rocking motion made me tense up. But very quickly, probably in less than five minutes I was out like a light for a solid eight hours. Several other people I spoke with the next morning reported feeling similarly, at first tense and scared to sleep but then sleeping like stones that night – we were all exhausted beyond normal limits.
We’d had a faculty meeting late the day of the event and were told we should teach classes the next day to try to keep everyone occupied and therefore focused on something other than the event. So the next day we had classes as normal, food as normal, and were told we were probably going to Midway Island, the nearest land mass – 800 miles away. Conditions were still fairly stormy. We now know that there was no help closer than Midway, though we thought a coast guard cutter would be near us that first evening. Everyone was a little shell shocked, but having more or less normal activity did help. Most of my students were engaged and focused on the readings. We all sat on the floors of our classrooms amidst (sometimes) smashed remnants of furniture or badly banged up walls, doors, podiums, etc. I remember we were all amazed in one classroom at the things that did NOT get broken, like some ceramic plates hanging as decoration on the wall of Classroom 8. The still rocky waters those first few days raised concerns or brought back bad memories for some people. But we had been living with such strong jerking and rocking and awful seas since the beginning of the voyage, that it did not really seem that abnormal. Fewer people seem to have slept well the second night (or so it seemed when talking to people at breakfast). As time went on, we settled back into our “normal” routine. There are a number of counselors on board who have been helping anyone and everyone who needs it, in both group and private sessions. And we all talk about various aspects of the experience to each other, so I guess that helps, at least in processing it.
Yesterday and today we are in MUCH calmer waters, and it’s much warmer outside (60’s and 70’s maybe). We are seeing albatrosses and other sea birds, and some people (not me) reported seeing whales around midday, breeching off the port side. The next day I did see several whale spouts in the morning, and a few distant glimpses of surfacing whales. About the third day after that night, I saw a bird from my cabin window (the first I’d seen since Vancouver) and felt remarkably cheered – just to see a sign of life outside the ship. We are finally allowed on deck, outside, for the first time during the voyage, and it feels glorious. I hear statements (and think them) like, “THIS is the voyage I signed up for.”
THE NEXT DAY – This morning we can see Oahu, our destination is Honolulu, though it is very misty outside, so it seems almost like a mirage. We should be there in a few hours, but we probably won’t be able to go ashore until quite late in the afternoon or evening, because there is a lot of bureaucratic stuff to get through, including dealing with the press (which I’m sure they want to control as much as possible).
As I write this I can’t believe that it’s been five whole days (now six) since it happened. But I definitely feel pretty calm and settled. I heard a number of people saying during or shortly after the event (“that night”) that they did not think they’d continue on the voyage. But since then I think a lot of people have reconsidered. We don’t know if ISE (the Institute for Shipboard Education that runs Semester at Sea) is going to even give us the chance to continue. But if they do, it’s clear to me that most of us will go on. People keep saying things like, “We’ve had an adventure, just not exactly the one we signed up for.” After so much work and effort to prepare to get the time off to do this, most of us don’t want to miss our opportunity to see the world.
Part of me can’t believe that this is attracting so much attention. No one died, few were seriously injured, and there’s a war and lots of other more important stuff going on. But given that it’s mostly rich white kids with concerned parents, I guess our accident (with its patina of disaster) seems newsworthy. Maybe some parents contacted the media and made them think it was a bigger story than it is. I heard today that we were even mentioned on The Daily Show. If anyone has taped any of this – please save it and make a copy for me. It’s really strange being part of something that’s on the news, but not having any idea of what the news says. We have no internet, and only a few satellite phones, where we stood in long lines to talk for 5 minutes each and usually with spotty connections. Many people heard things about what the outside world knows from talking to their families, but overall, we feel like we are mostly in the dark, isolated in our own world, at least I do. On the one hand we are all anxious to get on the internet and phones and find out more information (the administration have doled it out very carefully and with control it seems to me), yet on the other hand it’s been sort of nice building our community here. In most respects I really hope we continue the voyage together.
We should know more after a few days in Hawaii – apparently we’ll be there 6 days at least. We will stay on the ship, sleeping in our cabins and eating in the cafeteria (if we want to). Once they assess the ship’s damage, we’ll know whether and when and how we can go on. We won’t go to Japan or Korea for sure. Everything else remains in doubt. One can imagine many worse outcomes to our experience than a week in Hawaii. ISE has already put together field programs there. The only one I paid for is a one day trip to the “Big Island” – Hawaii. There is also a big Luau they are throwing for us tomorrow (3 free drinks for those over 21).
Hoping never again to be in the middle of the North Pacific (in winter or any other time),
Mary
February 3 update
I spent today on the “Big Island” (Hawaii). The volcanoes are interesting, though we saw no currently flowing lava (lots of steam though). It has been rainy every day since we’ve been here. Maybe the storms we experienced followed us. The first night when we finally got off the ship we got orchid leis and went on a long walk on dry land. Many of the kids wanted ice cream and pizza. We also hit Starbucks and Borders. The next day I went on a walking tour of China Town here in Honolulu with one of our professors who is an expert in Chinese art history. Yesterday I went in on a car rental with some others and we drove around the whole island, stopping at points of interest (a surfing beach, a hike to a lighthouse with a beautiful panorama, a little town, other beaches, etc.). At the lighthouse overlook, we saw lots of whales – though from a distance. Apparently it’s the calving time of year for humpbacks (who come here for it). Tomorrow I’m scheduled to meet up with my cousin for a possible hike. I have to say I am pretty exhausted and could use a day off! But I don’t want to miss out on seeing Hawaii. The latest we’ve heard is that we’ll be flown to Shanghai starting on the 10th, and from there we’ll continue the voyage. But we’ve not yet been told when or where the ship will be ready.
Life goes one – thankfully.
February 9, 2005
Aloha!
Things here have been beautiful, sometimes relaxing, sometimes rejuvenating, sometimes hectic (trying to see too much).
The psychologists on board tell us that we have been through a major trauma and should expect various symptoms starting now. The ones I have had that are on their list include a bad disaster dream 2 nights ago (not involving ships or water), being fairly irritable, and being very tired (to totally exhausted) at the end of every day (especially after touring for twelve hours or teaching and touring a little in the same day). Then it occurs to me that none of these are particularly unusual symptoms for me generally :) Anyway, I really think I'm doing fine. Many of us talk about what happened on the ship, and I've talked to some of you about it – which apparently is the prescribed treatment. One friend – Linda – kindly lent me her cell phone one day when she had free minutes in Hawaii, so I was able to call and chat with several friends and family.
I think I may have already written about some of what I did in Hawaii. My favorite thing so far was a hike up to a lighthouse on the east side of the island (Oahu) during a drive around the island I did with other faculty and staff and 2 children of one faculty (in a van we rented). Our hike wound a mile up a hillside (which in and of itself was scrubby, but nonetheless had interesting flora and fauna – and birds like zebra doves all along the way). From the top we had a gorgeous panoramic view of the ocean – much of it turquoise – and saw numerous whales spouting. One slapped its fin (or whatever it’s called) something like 25 times and was rolling and surfacing. I could have stayed there watching for hours, especially after the effort of the hike. But the children with us had been hoping all day to do some snorkeling, and they begged us to please go on to Haunuma Bay (the snorkeling site).
We did, but unfortunately when we got there it was already closing (at 5 pm) – though we could see it was a lovely spot – from the vantage point of the cliff above where we parked – it's a nature preserve – to which I would later return (see below). We saw a mongoose running along the sidewalk there – much as we'd see squirrels in the States. By the way, the kids tried to go back to Haunuma Bay the next day with their parents and found it was closed due to jellyfish (I guess this happens a few days every month – someone said the 8th and 9th days after a full moon). But then another day they did get to go snorkeling there finally.
Earlier that day we saw the Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor. I was not interested in stopping there, but others in our group were quite keen on it. It took 2 hours to get to the viewing platform and look at oily water. Sorry if I seem cynical or uninterested in history, but here we were supposed to be going to Japan to see among other things Hiroshima (one of my scheduled trips there), hopefully getting beyond our ethnocentrism, and instead we were in a site that can only stir up anti-Japanese sentiment. Through much of our time there I was humming to myself: "I don't wanna study war no more."
From there we drove to the “North Shore,” (the whole north side of the island, which is less developed, has wilder seas, and many beautiful views). We stopped first at a cool little town on its northwest border (I forgot the name). We ate lunch there (people bought various things from various stores – I had a burrito), sitting at a picnic table we shared with a big, sweet orange cat that made me just a little homesick for my two cats (neither of whom is orange or goes outside).
We then drove along the whole north shore – where because of the more dangerous tide only the bravest surfers play. It was rainy for the next few hours, sometimes raining very hard. We stopped at Sunset Beach, where the kids collected seashells, we all let the surf run over our feet, and watched the surfers out there riding and crashing.
So much of the scenery here is so outrageously beautiful, that it's hard to pick out any one thing to describe, but the green, lush mountainsides and the dramatic coastline and lovely ocean water made for pleasant hours of viewing as we drove.
After our hike and attempt to see Haunuma Bay, we found a beach in town, probably part of Waikiki, and let the kids swim for a while, though it was still raining (lightly). Finally we made our way back and had dinner on the ship.
The next day I took an organized tour to the "Big Island" where we saw lots of lava and volcanic activity (no hot lava – they wouldn't let our bus go there – though there is a spectacular new flow into the ocean right now that I saw on TV). Volcanoes National Park seems lovely – we did get to walk through a "lava tube" there and saw lots of steam and vents. But mostly they did not let us do much beyond brief stops for photo ops. We wanted to walk down to a crater and were told the gas was too dangerous (hordes of tourists were doing it before our eyes). But our bus had plenty of time to stop at a coffee shop, a chocolate shop, and an orchid store, where we spent over a half hour at each – so we'd buy things (they were all over priced). So overall it was too commercial a tour for my taste, but nonetheless I'm glad I saw the "Big Island" (Hawaii).
I have also spent time in subsequent days at Ala Moana beach and shopping center, other shops, walking around downtown, and on Sunday (Super bowl Sunday) I went back to Haunuma Bay and snorkeled – for the first time in my life. It was a blast. I was skeptical about whether I'd see much – they make you watch a film first – for the safety of the reef. This film shows many fish one could expect to see, and I assumed it was exaggerated. But I really saw almost everything from the video – bright yellow and black fish, rainbow colored ones, huge ones, small ones, every color, mostly feeding on or hiding in the coral, which I tried very hard to avoid touching. I got better at controlling myself in the tide as time went on. I was with 2 other people from the ship, and we took turns going in and watching our stuff on the beach, so I did not actually stay in that long (we got there relatively late because of meetings earlier that day and how long the bus took to arrive there). But I am very glad I went – it's a lovely spot – I guess an old crater from a volcano – with gorgeous bright turquoise water and lots of coral all the way up to the shoreline. Not much surf comes into the bay itself, so it makes for excellent snorkeling. Of course it's my first time trying it, so I may not be the best judge. One of the women with whom I went – Rebecca, the biology prof – has done much snorkeling, and I don't think she found it the best site she's visited. But it thrilled me.
I also spent part of one day with my cousin Andy here. We went to the University of Hawaii (at Manoa) and walked around the campus – where 40,000 students attend (and where he graduated). We ran into several people he knew from his days as a student there, and I could see that there is a very friendly spirit among people here. We also had a great Thai dinner.
Since Monday we've been teaching again. That seems to be taking most of my energy. I now have a set of 35 essay exams to grade. I guess I'll try to do much of it on the plane to China – which I should be on this Thursday. We'll be 2 days in Shanghai, 4 in Beijing, 3 in Hong Kong (all by flying), then fly to Vietnam for a week. From there we are scheduled to meet our ship again, which I think we'll all be thankful to see (this will be around the 26th or 27th).
In the end, only three students and three seniors opted to leave the program. I think we all have so much invested in it (emotionally, and time and energy-wise) at this point, that leaving would cause more anxiety than staying. Plus, maybe we feel like we deserve a trip around the world after what we experienced. And ISE has done a good job of pulling together a way for us to complete the program. The ship seems to be in good shape – from what I can tell (which isn't much). But that's what we're told. The students are whiny about exams – probably partly this is re-channeled anxiety about what we went through. But we are an academic program and the tests will happen.
More soon.
Special thanks to my niece Heather (at MSU) who tracked down our address here and sent me a thoughtful card. We've been advised that no packages should be sent to Vietnam or India because they would likely never make it to us.
Aloha, Mary
SAME DAY – message from ISE my sister received
I'm forwarding this so that you can see what they've told us.
-----Original Message-----
From: info@semesteratsea.com
Sent: Wednesday, February 09, 2005 4:01 PM
Subject: Voyage Update: February 9, 2005 4:00pm
Dear Family and Friends,
Members of the shipboard community are now making preparations for their departures from Honolulu over the next four days. Although the charter company that had agreed to provide the necessary flights to Shanghai withdrew from their commitment, we were able to secure flights for all participants on United Airlines and Japan Airlines (JAL) flights. The first group of 171 will depart Honolulu this evening, the 9th, and subsequent groups will depart on the 10th (170), 11th (263) and the 12th (153). Each group will be accompanied by staff and/or faculty.
All originally scheduled overnight field trips in China will continue as scheduled. Students traveling from Shanghai to Beijing, Xian and Guilin will return to Hong Kong, meeting up with those participants who will travel directly from Shanghai to Hong Kong. As always, our in-country field trips include faculty or staff trip leaders. The ISE administrative team will have a base of operations set up in JC Mandarin Hotel and Equatorial Hotel in Shanghai and the Panda Hotel in Hong Kong. All participants will be provided with emergency contact information that will enable them to reach the Dean on duty, the medical staff and our in-country tour agents.
All participants will be informed of their respective group and itinerary at a community meeting today.
Work continues on the MV Explorer. It is expected to be completed within the next 2-3 days, after which "sea trials" and required inspections will be conducted. The plan that remains in place calls for the vessel to sail for Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, to meet up with the shipboard community.
ISE is grateful to the staff at United and JAL for their responsiveness, cooperation and service. Additionally, we appreciate the hard work of our tour agents in China and Hong Kong who are helping to ensure a smooth implementation of these complex travel schedules. The safety of all of our participants remains our foremost priority.
Our faculty and staff are also working very hard to ensure the continued integrity of the academic program and field experiences.
Please continue to check our website and watch for email updates.
The Institute for Shipboard Education
February 11, 2005
Hi again,
Plans have changed in a frustrating way (for me and most of us). The charter company we were working with did not have visas for their flight crew, so ISE had to frantically re-book us on commercial flights at the last minute. I got bumped to a flight that doesn't leave here until 10:30 pm tonight—though we have to meet for "disembarkation procedures" at 6:30 (which will make our trip total from here to there 32 hours – ugh). This is two days later than I thought I was leaving, which means two days less to see China.
From here we are flying directly to – unbelievably – San Francisco. So after a month and lots of time at sea, we will be a couple hundred miles from where we started – it's become a joke (though the laughter may be slightly pained) among the faculty to plot our route to nowhere thus far (though admittedly we saw Hawaii and an angry North Pacific). We have a nine hour layover in SF before taking another 13 hour flight, in my group's case, directly to Beijing – so we'll finally get to our first truly foreign country then (we're not counting Canada since we were there less than 24 hours and it was rainy and miserable the whole time – plus it's still America).
Anyway, this new schedule means that not only will those in my group get NO opportunity to see Shanghai, but also we won't get our full four days in Beijing. And we were the group that paid extra to spend the additional four days in China (the ship schedule was to be in Shanghai only for 2 days – anyone who wanted to pay extra could spend an additional $700 plus to spend the 4 days the ship would have been at sea in Beijing and fly directly to Hong Kong).
As things stand, I should arrive (with 175 students and other faculty and staff) in Beijing at 6 pm on the 13th. Then we fly to Hong Kong on the 16th. So we'll be arriving incredibly jet lagged and exhausted half a day late for our tour there. The first morning after that we are scheduled to go to the Great Wall. Dave Sharp – a Bloomingtonian friend who is also on the trip – joked that he's going to be sure to take lots of pictures because that will probably be the only memory he'll have of it.
Sorry to indulge in a frustrated rant, but flying is not my idea of a fun way to travel, especially when it’s a flight in the opposite direction from where we’re going with a 9 hour layover. Maybe this is displaced frustration. Anyway, I guess it’s better than canceling the program, so I’m happy we’re going on. Too bad that charter company screwed up so bad.
One bright note is that we get 2 extra days in Hong Kong, though I've heard (from a friend who’s been there on business a lot) that our hotel there is not so great – and it's a half hour train ride from points of interest.
BUT – we all keep reminding ourselves – we are here, and able to go on, even if not in ideal fashion.
The ship is apparently being repaired on schedule and should be there to pick us up in Vietnam.
I think we'll all be happy to see it again. We can leave stuff on the ship, but we'll be schlepping big suitcases around with us because we have to bring clothes for various climates – wintry Beijing and hot Vietnam – plus our teaching materials. We'll have two class days in Hong Kong.
Here in Hawaii I have kind of run out of steam and money. It was so demoralizing to learn about these awful flights that I don't feel like doing much more. I did go to a play last night near Chinatown called "David Carradine, Not Chinese." It was pretty good, but past my bedtime! I usually go to bed really early (like 9 pm) on the ship. But I get up most days around 5 am, by which time it’s usually light (though not in Hawaii), so it works out fine. Otherwise I've just been shopping and walking around the last few days here. It's been very hot the last several days, so it's hard to be out there most of the day.
Sorry to sound grumpy. Most of you are probably in winter wondering how anyone could complain about extra time in Hawaii right now. I'm sitting in the computer lab on the ship (half of which is working fine again), and it's packed. Most of us who are left (numerous plane loads of people have been leaving for the last 2 days) are just feeling grumpy and ready to move on for the trip we signed up for.
That's the news for now.
Hopefully the next time I write I'll be in China (too briefly) and if I'm coherent I'll write you from there – or maybe not until Hong Kong.
Best, Mary
February 19, 2005
I'm in China and all is well. Actually I'm in Hong Kong now, leaving for Vietnam tomorrow.
I wish I had more time. I will write more from Vietnam, but I'm kind of out of it now. I've picked up a virus – not Avian Flu.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know all is well (except for this awful flu I have contracted), and I'm thinking of you all. Computer access here is fairly expensive, which is why I am not writing more (that and the fact that I’m feverish and not feeling at all up to it). It stinks having two extra days here in Hong Kong and not even being able to leave the hotel. I had one day of sightseeing (a pre-planned trip) on Lantau Island, then I fell sick that night. Those two days after that were teaching days. It was all I could do to drag myself to my classes and then teach before collapsing in my bed again. I guess it’s better to be sick now, though, than at a time when I would miss a trip I’d pre-paid for.
Peace, Mary
[written February 23, 2005] We finally got to China after our 30 hour flight ordeal. Nothing unusual – in fact we were on schedule the whole time – that's just how long it took to get there on the route they booked us on. It was a long and grueling flight. I think I watched 3 full movies, and they served us food several times. Thank god ISE had ordered vegetarian meals for those of us who are vegetarians (something like 30 of us out of our group of about 175 on this flight). I had a nice seat with extra legroom, but it was near the bathrooms, so the noise and traffic made it hard to rest much.
Upon arrival in Beijing we were exhausted, but I was on duty since I was “trip leader” for our group of 75 faculty, staff, and mostly students. Being trip leader was stressful. We had a tour guide (actually a couple of them from Beijing International Business University) who did most of the real work. But I was responsible for getting students on to the bus on time, and making sure there were no problems in our group. I don't believe there was a single time when all 75 people were actually on time – maybe the worst was the day we went to the Great Wall and 2 students were missing for 45 minutes. It was especially stressful because that day was very snowy, and this is up in the mountains. The wall itself is quite steep and thus slippery in those conditions. Anyway, I was imagining them with broken limbs somewhere up top, but in fact they had just decided to take a cable car ride, which landed them far away and very late. That was fairly typical. When we first arrived in Beijing our guides were not actually there to meet us. It was a fairly awful first half hour or so because we were all ready to drop from exhaustion, and yet we were stuck without our guide to take us to our hotel. He – Jeff – eventually showed up and turned out to be very nice. Apparently our plane was early, so he wasn’t really late. We all dragged our luggage to the busses and eventually got to our hotel (not a dorm as we’d expected), got our rooms, and were able to sleep. We got there at about 10 pm Beijing time, so our sleeping schedules got re-arranged relatively easily. God knows what time it was in Hawaii at that point, or when we’d last slept. But we had three full days of activity ahead of us, so I for one was out like a light within a half hour of getting into my room. Jeff took those who wanted to go for dinner at a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant. He actually took us to meals at “American Restaurants” several times. He’s been running these trips for 10 years, so I guess he feels he knows what we want.
In our three days in Beijing, we saw an incredible amount of very beautiful sights, ate a lot of great food, and tried to take in what we could see (mostly from the busses) of life in China. Mostly we were taken to tourist sights. The first day we saw Tiananmen Square, Mao's Tomb (including his body – or maybe it is wax we heard in class), and nearby spots. Then we went to the Forbidden City – where the emperor lived. It's a huge, enclosed sort of park full of harmoniously arranged buildings, each of which is highly, tastefully designed and decorated. The designs involved lots of blue, red, and yellow paint on the ceilings and walls (in lovely floral or geometric or dragon or other motifs). In much of the other artwork too – in stone, marble, brass, etc. – there were motifs involving dragons, lions, cranes, and turtles. There was a garden near one of the gates that was very beautifully laid out, from mosaic tile work in the walkways, to split trees, piles of rock sculptures, and lots of landscaping – it was lovely even in winter.
That day we also saw the "temple of heaven" (where the emperor prayed), a market, and had an evening at an acrobatic show – which had both incredible and fairly mundane moments – a lot of tumbling, twisting, bending, balancing, and contorting (and a lot of props, everything from umbrellas, to hats, and bicycles). We had dinner at a “Chinese” restaurant, though the vegetarian options were slim. Five people at our table were vegetarians and could eat only two of the eight or so dishes they served.
The next day was snowing, and that's when we drove in the morning to the Great Wall. It was a tense ride up the mountains as cars were sliding all over the road. But our bus made it fine. As I mentioned, once there, we had to deal with very slippery conditions on the wall itself. And visibility was quite low. I walked in both directions for a ways, until it got so steep that people were literally falling all over the place. We probably could only see about 50 meters ahead of us at any given time. Actually, visibility was low the whole time we were in China – probably largely because of pollution (we were told). The students loved the Great Wall, maybe partly because of the snow and bad conditions. They were able to interact a little with the Chinese because everyone was laughing so much about the slippery conditions, and because we were all clinging to the railing to try to help us get up or down. But people we were going up and down both sides, so there were a lot of interesting encounters of no one wanting to give up their grip on the rail, or people laughing about slipping around each other. There was a lot of falling and sliding too, by Chinese and Americans. And there were some snow ball fights, including a couple between our students and many of the Chinese there. I think that made a lot of our students very happy, to see the intersections across all humanity. One student told me, “It’s just like our theme in global studies – One world, multiple world views!!!” She realized that “we really are all one people,” I guess because we all slip on the snow and have snowball fights.
Other big attractions we saw included the "summer palace" (where the emperor vacationed--there's a lake and hills and lovely nature incorporated into this huge private park), a market – where just about everything you can think of is for sale pretty cheap, some good restaurants, and general drives around the city. China was as crowded as I expected, and people have different concepts of personal space and appropriate public behavior. I saw people spitting everywhere – sometimes right in front of me – actually I think it was always men. And a lot of men shoved and pushed their way into where ever they wanted to be, regardless of whether they were there first. For instance, at the temples and palaces, there were times when you needed to fight through a crowd to see into some of the buildings. And sometimes just on the street, you might find yourself shoved out of the way if someone thought you were in their way. There were also tons of vendors, selling tourist junk like postcards, bags, hats, you name it, who would appear everywhere our bus went, or every time we came out of a monument (and sometimes in the monuments – though they had officials trying to stop this). And bathroom facilities were a shock to many students or other who hadn't traveled much before. Most public facilities have squat rather than sit down toilets, and usually no toilet paper. There is also usually no soap or paper towels or driers to wash hands afterwards. People started realizing why it's always important to carry along your own toilet paper and hand disinfectant along with cameras and other necessities.
One day we went to a fancy hotel for lunch. It had a beautiful airy, open lobby with lots of gold and red decor (favorite decorative colors in much of China). And the buffet lunch featured virtually every kind of food, from pizza to sushi to eel and other Chinese delicacies. And one night they had dinner for us at a restaurant that served (specializes in) "Peking Duck" -- named for the city (Beijing is just another spelling/pronunciation for Peking). That night Jeff had the restaurant make some vegetarian dishes. So all the vegetarians among us sat together at one big round table and had about 10 really delicious dishes prepared with no meat. It was a feast that we all enjoyed very much -- things like spicy eggplant, snap peas, bean curd, soup, and many other dishes. In Chinese restaurants meals are served "family style," with all the dishes being brought to the table as they are cooked (still hot). The tables all have a big round turntable in the middle, so you just rotate this movable part of the table until the dish you want is in front of you, then you quickly scoop some of the dish onto your plate and put it back on the turntable for others to take.
We also visited the university that hosted us that night (Beijing International Business University), and met some American and Chinese students who attend there. The Americans live there for a semester or year, and seem to be doing pretty well at learning Mandarin (the language) and the culture. They have pretty standard types of dorm rooms – which we got to see. One difference from American dorm rooms is that in the bathroom (which each room has) the shower head is just attached to the top of the wall but with not shower or bathtub area. So when you shower, the water will spray over your toilet and sink and so on. Since everything is ceramic or water proof, this doesn't hurt anything. I think probably most Chinese shower by rinsing off briefly, turning off the water, soaping up, and then briefly turning the water back on to rinse. So they probably don't get as much spray all over as we would if we took a typical shower in that space. These student rooms had a couple of typical dorm like beds and other furniture, and were shared in the American students case with maybe one other student (although the girl whose room we saw said she lives there alone). These exact same rooms that Chinese students are assigned to house SEVEN or EIGHT Chinese students each, so they are much more crowded. We were told this by the American students we met and by the Chinese students who accompanied us on our trips. Two of the American students I spoke to in this dorm said that since it was winter break for lunar new year (the biggest festival and holiday of the year in China) that they had just come back from a fieldtrip. They went to a village in Tibet for a week. This village was, they were told, the last matriarchal community on earth (still functioning as such). They said it's somewhere near Shangri-La. These students will be in China for a year. They seem to like studying there – they said everything is pretty cheap, but also kind of hard to adjust to culturally sometimes. The study abroad experience they were describing there reminded me of my year abroad in France – though of course China is much different from France. But the whole ex-pat student community life, and the immersion in the language and culture were similar.
Some of our students met up with these Americans at a bar later that night and reported that they (the exchange students in China) were kind of snotty toward them (the SAS students) – like they know China better than anyone who just passes through for 3 days could – which is of course perfectly true. Our students were a little annoyed – but it is true that we're not really getting to know any of the cultures we visit more than superficially. But we are seeing a lot MORE cultures than most study abroad programs ever could. So it's a trade-off.
HONG KONG
I really only was up and about one day in Hong Kong – and that was for a trip I "lead" to Lantau Island, which has Buddhist monasteries. It's a very quiet and beautiful place mostly – lots of state parks, hiking trails, and so on, in a mountainous terrain with many views of the ocean. I think it's fairly isolated because it was only ever accessible by ferry or boat until they recently constructed a bridge. Now one part of the island is much more developed. We walked through a village that was very quiet and seemed pretty poor – the streets wound right through people's yards and we saw into houses through open doors. They were very small houses (one room about 12 by 15 feet large) and with minimal furniture. Many women were preparing lunches right on the sidewalk over little coal burners. We saw lots of seafood drying, or for sale, or sometimes it was alive (in buckets).
There is a huge, bronze statue of Buddha on the island that we visited near the monastery where we had lunch, but there was so much mist that day, that we could not really see the statue even when we were right below it. It just appeared as a ghostly apparition – you'd see an arm or knee as the mist clearly or shifted a little. The museum inside was interesting. We had a good vegetarian lunch, but did not really get to see any of the monastery besides the public dining room. We also spent an hour at a beach on one part of the island, but it was cool and overcast, and I don’t think anybody swam. I walked along the beach for a while, and then I lay on it for another while. It was a calm and pretty place, completely at odds with the jungle of very modern skyscrapers and highways that makes up the main part of Hong Kong.
It was later that night that I started feeling ill, so I never went out in Hong Kong again. Our hotel there was far from the main areas of town (though most of Hong Kong appears to be quite crowded and urban). We had two class days there at the hotel, so I mustered my energy to teach, but then I really just slept otherwise the whole time I was there.
Peace, Mary
February 23, 2005
Thanks to everyone who wrote in recent weeks. I hope to find time to answer you all individually when we get back on the ship. For the last week (plus) I have had the flu and have been totally out of commission.
But I'm finally feeling a little better and have ventured out into Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) for the first time. I actually had a trip scheduled to Hanoi and Halong Bay for three days. The morning the trip was to depart I was feeling my worst. I tried to just stay here, but our hotel (the Omni – which is quite nice) would not cooperate -- they just kept telling me they did not have a room available for me to stay there. The doctor gave me some antibiotics (because he thought it might have turned into