Land of the Rising Sun

We arrive in Japan tomorrow morning.

I wrote a post for the blog I'm writing for a local classroom, in which I said,

Tokyo is the capital of Japan and is considered the largest metropolitan area in the world. You may think of it as one big city, but it is actually made up of 23 smaller cities that all merged into one. Approximately 13 million people live in Tokyo! In comparison, about 2.8 million people live in Toronto. I think Toronto is a big city, so I'm quite nervous to explore Tokyo. 

This is no lie. I'm incredibly nervous. I'm not a crowds person, so Tokyo is basically the exactly opposite of my comfort zone. I am glad I have reliable friends to travel with, especially ones who share my priorities in port- that is, exploring and living a place without finding it necessary to get drunk in every city. Although we still might try Japanese karakoe. :)

We travel to Tokyo the day we arrive (tomorrow!), two days there, a night bus to Kyoto, one night there, then to Kobe, staying on the ship the last night and one last day in Kobe. It feels like it's going to be forever, but it's only 6 days. Then we're back on ship.

Our weekends/weekdays are basically reversed for the next month. A week in country, a weekend in class, repeat.

It reminds me of diving for cinderblocks at camp. Take a deep breath, know where you're going, make sure you know how to surface, then go for it.

Japan, breathe, China, breathe, Vietnam, breathe, Singapore.

I'll be taking my laptop in Japan, as, like everyone else on the ship, I am jonesing for a little internet. I don't miss it, in many ways, it reminds me of the luxury of isolation that is camp, but some people are positively rabid. Although, on second thought, I really don't need it. Lugging it around the Japanese countryside just for checking Facebook? Hmm. I'll have to think about it.

Right. I need to go eat dinner soon. I've had a quiet afternoon packing and watching tv, really a mental rest in preparation for the go-go nature of the next few days. We have our pre-port at 2000, 2 hours from now. Our internet is cut at 2400, because of Japanese law.

Here we go.

out in the ocean

The craziest thing I have every done in a storm is be in the middle of a lake, tying up a sailboat, as thunder and lightening crash overhead.

The second craziest thing is eat tacos calmly, holding down napkins with my elbows and protecting my textbooks with my legs.

It was the fabled taco dinner tonight, which has been whispered about since day one. I adopted the quantity over style approach I perfected at camp and made a heaping pile of taco salad and mexican rice. Just as myself and a couple students sat down to enjoy under the safety of an underhang of the upper deck, the wind and rain began to pick up. It had been considerably gusty to begin with, but this was a new level. When it does this, the deck chairs tend to go flying across the deck, and the crew members are responsible for stacking them.

We saw as one beloved crew member, who is always smiling and singing unrecognizable gospel songs, began to stack as the storm escalated. There were a considerable amount of chairs. Someone said, "We should help him" and without another word, everyone stood up and began stacking chairs. Salt water saturated our laughing lips.

The laughter and thanks of the crew member, as well as the warmth of our taco dinners, was a rich reward.

- - -

We're 7 days into the Ocean Crossing. This is the longest stretch of ship travel we have in our voyage. Four more days left. Once we reach Japan we will have completed one third of our classes. Needless to say, the days have become a bit of a routine.

I wrote a post a while back and then accidentally deleted it and then haven't had the desire to write again.

I hope everyone had a wonderful January 21st- this day didn't happen for me. We've been setting our clocks back an hour every other day or so (which is lovely for sleep- I've never been so well rested), and eventually we crossed the International Date Line, forcing us to skip January 21st. We were supposed to skip January 20th, which apparently is Martin Luther King Jr. Day in the US, and this was a big no-no, so somehow they managed to change that. Too bad for the two girls who suddenly didn't have their birthday.

I have become attached to a group traveling in Japan- a friend of mine I met through my prayer group invited me to travel with her, and two other girls joined shortly after. One girl has experience traveling, so we've already booked hostels in Tokyo and Kyoto, just to ensure we have places to stay. I feel blessed they have already worked out those details - I had absolutely no idea where to start with Japan. I'll be equally grateful when I get to China and everything is taken care of. So I'm currently occupying my free time familiarizing myself with the subway system and must-see places of Tokyo to ensure I can be helpful in some way.

It's been surprisingly still warm and muggy as we head north for Japan. I'm unsure if it is my imagination or the sun, but I think I see my summer-blonde hair returning (too bad it'll all be gone shortly after India). Unfortunately, we hit colder weather in Japan and China before returning to the bikini-weather. I'm kind of looking forward to the familiar sting of winter in Beijing- that'll feel like home.

The storm has been shaking the boat- the normal rocking of the boat typically feels like driving quickly and reversing over a steep hill, that stomach dropping out feeling, but now it's coupled with intense airplane turbulence.

That's everything for now… I suppose the next time I write it might be post-Japan.

What do you do with 10 hours in paradise?

"We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open."  - Jawaharlal Nehru

I woke up with the goal of meeting with what is becoming "my" morning prayer group at our typical time and place, 7 AM, 7th Deck Forward, which is occupied only by the wind at that time, but instead we found this.

But also this.

The full moon was setting as the sun was rising to our other side, all as we pulled into the beautiful Big Island, Hawaii. I ate a hurried breakfast. Everyone has to clear immigration, so they bring customs officers into the Union and have everyone funnel through, pick up their passport, have an officer check it, then drop it off again with the ship's officials (I don't know why they hold on to them while we're on the ship- probably so we don't lose them).

It took an hour or so to do that, and then they announced over the PA system that we were clear. The line to exit the ship went all the way up to the 5th deck (gangway was on the 2nd). 

But then there was land. And sun. And Hawaii.

I traveled with a group of friends to Rainbow Falls.

It's 24 metres tall. For some reason tall water has never really impressed me- not even Niagara Falls. We hiked up to the top, where you can jump through small pools.

Again, I don't exactly have the best track record around waterfalls. At 15, I feel down one. I'd uncomfortable around slippery rock, knowing I don't have the best footing. This might be the first lesson I have learned: listen to myself. I took this photo.

I knelt to take off my shoes to keep up with the group, thinking I might have more grip with my bare feet. I slipped my camera into my bag and took a step into a pool. I immediately slipped, but I caught myself against the rock. Somewhere I registered hearing an empty plop. I took another step, and realized my bag was a lot lighter than it should be.

I will forever be able to see the Canon strap floating in the water, sad, pitiful bubbles floating to the surface.

I don't swear often. I did then.

It was toast. I had no doubt. I set off walking on my own, distraught, angry, in shock, to find the Wal-Mart in Hilo. I ran into two SAS staff members who called a cab for me and gave me someone to cry to. Soon, I assembled the last Canon D3200 in the Hilo Wal-Mart sitting on a bench in the hot sun, the packing and plastic spread out in front of me. I was aware how ridiculous I looked.

I was happy that all my photos and the battery in the Drowned One survived, and sprung to life in my Zombie camera.

Someday this will make a good story. For now it's still raw. I haven't told many people about what happened- I don't want their sympathy, or their judgement that it was so easy for me come to the decision to buy a second $500 camera. I know both myself, and my Mom, wouldn't be satisfied if I bought a cheap camera. This is a once in a lifetime semester, and I just learned a life lesson.

Moving on. 

By the grace of God, I ran into two friends waiting for the shuttle back to the cruise terminal from Wal-Mart. I hung out with them the rest of the day, shopping and spending sometime at Richardson Beach State Park.

When I took this photo, I knew I made the right decision.

At the beach were these beautiful, enormous sea turtles. I tried to make a Finding Nemo joke and failed somehow, but my friend who had had a couple pina colados laughed anyway.

I did go swimming- the water was cool and salty but the sand and rocks sharp and unforgiving. A friend and I tentatively went farther out- I have never felt the ocean so strong before. But when we used my goggles to peak a few feet away from us, we saw bright tropical fish contrasted by the black volcanic rock.

We had dinner at Ken's House of Pancakes- I've been experiencing this weird adjustment where I'm not really hungry, ever. Always impartial to eating. I think it might be because of the lack of exercise on the ship (in comparison to walking 40 minutes to school everyday last semester), but I wasn't really hungry in Hilo either. I'm hoping this subsides. But the half of a salad I ate was delicious.

After piling 8 girls in a cab (I ended up paying 75 cents), we arrived back on ship early to avoid "dock time". You don't want dock time- if you are 0-15 minutes late for our On Ship Time, you have to stay on the ship for an extra 2 hours in the next port, while all your friends go explore. Amazingly (and in contrast to the trucks full of students we saw heading off to a rumoured 'cave rave'), no one on the ship received dock time.

I was completely exhausted at the end of the day, and still sore now. I went to our morning prayer group, then classes, lunch, and went to go sit outside. We're currently refuelling in Honolulu, docked and everything, but not allowed off the ship. It's 5 PM now.

Needless to say, I will have a tan that I won't be able to show off at camp.

Hawaii was lush and thick and untamed and wondrous. A place I'm excited to go back to, but maybe not Rainbow Falls.

We have an upcoming 9 days at sea, including our Lost Day. I'm excited to see what the Ocean Crossing will bring. I also need to start my research for Japan, but for now I'm content to watch the tugboats go by in the harbour.

Rebecca

sunset 1.0

not yet in Hilo

I bought my SAS sweater today… I had been debating which one I wanted and finally choose a cozy grey one. I made the mistake of only bringing one really warm comfy sweater, not realizing how chilly it can be on the ship, especially in the morning.

The sunrise today was beautiful. Last night I attended Christian meeting at 2200 (so late, my normal bedtime has been like 2000 or 10 PM), and it was everything I could have wanted. It was wonderful seeing friends I had met before there and then having that, "Oh, you're Christian? Great!" moment. It was a brainstorming meeting, just discussing what can happen on the ship. I mentioned to the group that I've been getting up early, and after the meeting someone approached me asking if I'd be getting up tomorrow. So, this morning there was four of us huddled away from the wind at the bow of the ship, readings Psalms, and then watching the sunrise. I felt… peaceful. Also tired, but you know, it's not a habit yet.

I realized I haven't written about my A day classes- Acting is just like I imagined, fun games and getting people to step out of their comfort zone. World Religions is my Global Lens class, but the prof is wonderful and hilarious and also Mormon. Today, I continued to love Astronomy (I now know the distinction between meteors, meteorites, meteroids) and sat through our first discussions of The Tempest in Global Shakespeare.

I tried to sit outside and read after lunch, but it started raining. Then it was sunny again (we must be getting closer to Hawaii). Then there was this spectacular double rainbow at the stern of the ship, very close to us.

Because I haven't done this yet, here is my room.

Here is the view from our window.

I'm going to go eat dinner now!

everything is upstairs

I've been getting up early each morning- although this becomes less impressive when you realize we gain an hour of sleep about every other day. The sunrise this morning was equally unimpressive, but I'll keep trying.

Last night on the ship was a rocky one. Drawers in your cabin slide open and close with the roller coaster of the waves, so I woke up about every two hours or so. Also, if anything light isn't secured down it goes sliding away. Fortunately Abby and I are the 2nd Deck (I don't think I've mentioned that yet), so we get a significant less amount of tossing. One of my professors (student and faculty are on the higher decks) told the class how he was completely thrown out of bed. We do have a window in our room though (I'll post a photo soon), and you can watch the deep blue water get closer and then farther rhythmically. 

I don't think I've eaten a single meal with the same group of people. Even if I don't have any plans to eat with someone, I will just go and sit down at someone's table. Although this is very much the culture of the voyage, I'm quite proud of myself every time I have a rewarding first interaction with someone.

This morning I had class 0800 through until 1205. Early morning Astronomy, with the lovely Ian Campbell, an older British professor whose bright sense of humour is only matched by the colour of the sweatbands he wears on his head. I haven't touched math since high school, so I'm slightly wary, but his magnetic personality, and being able to come home and show off how many constellations I know will be my motivation. 

After, I attended Intro to Theatre, the class I'm auditing. I learned that Professor Kahn (or Drew), like many of my home Drama professors, reuses jokes. It was an introduction-type lecture, a lot that didn't pertain to me as I'm not actually in the class, but I'm excited for discussions on foreign forms of theatre as we near Asia.

Finally, I had my last class, Global Shakespeare. I had met Professor Kinney earlier, and I had figured he would be the kind of lecturer you just have to be awake for. He has a dry sense of humour if you are listening closely, and I got approval for a random answer I knew to a piece of Shakespeare trivia. We are reading The Tempest first, which has a shipwreck in the first scene. 

I attended two seminars this evening, at 1900 and 2000. These are offered every day, Global Cafe and Insight Lecture. A professor or guest speaks about an interesting topic related to their field, our upcoming destination, or whatever. This evening the spokesperson from TOMS on our boat spoke (we all got a free book), and the Cultural Anthropology prof spoke about having successful conversations with strangers (she's a lovely lady and the topic was great but she's not the greatest speaker). I think that if things like this were hosted on my home campus I would entertain the thought of going, but would never leave the house. Here, I literally walk up a couple flights of stairs. My accessibility to fascinating mental stimulation has never been open.

It's 2316. Past my bedtime if I'm getting up to see the sunrise again. I'll write about my other classes tomorrow, as I have them again (this two day cycles is a killer). The waves are significant now, enough that I can see sprays of white in our porthole.

Psalm 65:5

It's early. I woke up at 0625 this morning to watch the sunrise and have a bit of God time - I'm also doing my best to switch to nautical time.

I sat for a half an hour, watching the inky black sky change into a velvety grey, broken up by pockets of milky white. Needless to say, it was overcast and largely underwhelming. However, as I put my chair away, I met this girl named Lulu. She's tall, with long brown hair and an accent. We decided to have breakfast together, and I set my Bible on table as I went to get tea.

When I came back she told me she was Christian too! We said grace and then talked about our communities back home (she's from Zimbabwe but studies in the US), our courses, our hopes for community on board the ship. We're getting lunch today. It's amazing how God answers prayers.

I don't start classes until 1300 (after lunch), so I'm going to shower and then do some readings (right, that whole school thing). Yesterday was Orientation, so sitting and listening all day (let me summarize: "Do not be stupid and do go to class."). I'm excited for class. I've been without meaningful mental stimulation since November. I also met all my professors yesterday, and had an incredible chat with my Acting professor. He said "dramaturgy" and I felt giddy- he speaks my language. His work is in social justice and theatre. I can't wait to hear more. I am planning on sitting in on his Intro to Theatre class, just to get my fix of theatre and hear more about his work/international theatre.

You answer us with awesome and righteous deeds, God our Savior,

the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas.

- Psalm 65:5

I don't know where it will end, but I know where it starts

I'm on the ship.

THE SHIP.

MY ship.

The past twenty-four hours have been a blur. Lines, introductions, making small-talk. All things I'm quite bad at. I waved good-bye to my California family (if you're reading this Aunt Laurie, thank you again for your hospitality!), then it began. The bus ride to Ensenada felt like forever and nothing at the same time. Then there was the moment our bus pulled over just past the Mexican border without explanation, and the girl behind me whispered, "We're going to die!", and then the driver turned on a movie and kept driving.

Everyone thinks seasickness will pass them by magically, but last night left and right students were clutching walls and running for bathrooms. I also abandoned my dinner, and finding the first adult I could, found a bathroom, although I wouldn't throw up until bedtime. Immediately after, I felt immensely better. I just had breakfast, and I'm currently sitting in my room (mine and Abby's, a lovely girl who I'm excited to get to know), ecstatic that the email service is working.

I feel guilty I'm not out on deck making new friends, but I know that I need to recharge my batteries for the full day of Orientation Sessions and socializing.

I've got a whole world of time.

---

If you want to contact me - rebecca.isaak.sp14@semesteratsea.org!

3 days: a thousand voices, none of them mine

Over the past month, I must have read close to thirty blogs of past SAS students. I feel like I've tasted the exotic food myself, walked dusty path in cacophonous cities with my own feet, had these remarkable experiences. But I haven't, not yet. These adventures will not be my adventures. Whatever I do in each of the twelve countries will be my own, precious because of that.

As the final countdown begins, I keep reminding myself of that.

The final preparations are coming together. Today my uncle and I ran around the sun-soaked consumer sprawl that is Huntington Beach, printing off extra visa photos, finding bugspray with enough DEET to keep African mosquitoes at bay, and collecting $100 in ones. The lady at the (rather intimidating) bank had to go into vault and found me my own little wrapped stack of crisp dollar bills. Just like the kind that are stuffed into black duffel bags in the movies.

I'm packing in manageable stages, sliding Shakespeare textbooks between clothes and bags of granola bars. I'm slightly concerned about fitting everything into my backpack and duffel bag. But there's not really an option now. It's either fitting or I need to have a sudden revelation that I actually don't need it.

We're leaving for San Diego on Thursday morning. We're attending TED x Semester at Sea that afternoon, organized as part of Semester at Sea's 50th Anniversary.

I don't feel like it's real. Not yet.

7 days: Cali photos

December 20 - Boat Parade - an exercise in wealthy people decorating their boats and less wealthy people watching

Dec 20 - Boat Parade

Dec 25 - Christmas morning on the beach

Many days - the dog at the beach

7 days: the spoken christmas

There is no Christmas like a Californian Christmas. Every two years we return to Huntington Beach, the area where my mother was born and lived until she was 25. Now, the children sleep on couches and sleeping bags in the living room, we take the dog on long walks on the beach, we eat often without schedule but plentifully, we spend our evenings in the hot tub in the backyard.

I love seeing our family. It always feels like time-traveling- arriving down here and my cousins have jumped in growth but my brother and I appear the same.

I think forever more in my mind, there will be two phases of my Californian family in my mind. Before Uncle Paul's death, and after.

Suddenly I am old enough to pause to hear whispered conversations and aware enough to understand their significance. I suppose most children are ignorant about the reality in their family in some way or other, but realizing that makes it no less painful to suddenly be aware your family is not as perfect as you thought it was. Somehow, understanding this makes me feel like I, at the tender age of 20, have finally grown out of the kid's table and am sipping champagne with the adults. And I don't particularly like alcohol.

--

I have been without routine since December 3rd.

I am ready for Semester at Sea. I feel like this will be the longest week of my life. My final preparations are falling into place.

I'm incomparably nervous.