New Blog!

Okay so I've decided to start a brand new blog. Heres the address: http://erininjeju.wordpress.com/
(sorry blogger!)

You can follow my South Korean adventures here...thanks all! :)

Delaying the "real world"- Next stop: South Korea

It has been well over a year since my last post! After returning from my Semester at Sea I didn't feel much need to keep up with my blog. But I am preparing to make the next major move in my life and I've decided to start back up again! At first I couldn't decide if I should pick up where I left off with my "All at Sea" blog, or start fresh. To keep it simple I'm going to change things around a bit, but continue posting here. This blog is intended to help family and friends keep up with my travels, work, and life in general. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

For those of you who don't know, I have been searching for a job teaching English as a second language for a few months now. I've had offers in China, Japan, and South Korea. Out of the three countries, the offers I received in South Korea had the best benefits. So a few weeks ago I signed a contract with a private school (also known as a hogwon) on Jeju Island. Jeju is the southern most point off the mainland of South Korea. It is a volcanic island and home to Mount Halla, the tallest mountain in the country. I'm super excited to spend my days instructing adorable Korean children! I finally have all of my papers in line and have applied for my work visa at the Korean Consulate in Chicago. Once I get that (which should be in a week or so) I send it to the school I will be working for, and they will purchase my plane ticket and start to plan my whole travel itinerary. I've been talking with the girl who I will be taking over for. She's 24 and has been at the school for 2 years. We're working out a deal where I will buy most of the stuff she's accumulated for the apartment and her scooter as well. So yes, I will be cruising around the island on a scooter, haha! We'll see how that works out. If all goes as planned I will be leaving toward the end of February to start teaching March 2nd, 2012. Kinda crazy, it's coming up so fast! Excited to see where this next chapter in my life takes me...

Runnin' Down a Dream

South Africa (Sud de Afrique)

WOWZA! I know this may be growing redundant (since I say it about each country thus far) but South Africa was so incredible! I have never seen a place so rich in scenery and activity options. I mean you could: Shark dive, rappel Table Mountain (which overlooks the entire countryside), surf, paraglide, play with wild penguins or baboons, bungee jump the highest bridge in the world (I’m holding out for the highest point in the world in Macau, Hong Kong) and the list goes on.

I spent most of my first day exploring. The ship rolled in a bit earlier than anticipated due to unpredictable waters (signature to this side of the Atlantic). The view was the best since Cadiz, Spain. In the evening I went to WOWZA (not just a made up word) but an actual musical/dinner/performance.

Day two, I ventured out with my good friend Alex to book a wine tour. We opted out of the biking tour to hit more vineyards and avoid potential mishaps =) The first vineyard we were driven to by our hired driver was named Amani meaning “a place of peace”. We sat at the counter, first customers of the day and made conversation with the woman working behind the bar. My eyes were drawn to the only red labeled bottle, it had two butterflies and was called “Forest Myers Shiraz”—seriously?! My mom and I have looked for a bottle with our last name for years with no luck and the first vineyard I visit, voila! Not to mention, Shiraz is our favorite. After this we picked fresh strawberries at a local farm-delicious. We had giant buckets full, which made for a tasty lunch. After this we went to another vineyard before going to the Cheetah and Eagle Sanctuary to play with some animals. Two more vineyards and we were set. It probably would have been wise to end my excursion here, but as we were walking back through V&A Waterfront (AKA our port for the week) I was coerced onto a ridiculous looking pirate ship for an evening cruise. Somehow lots of impromptu SAS kids ended up sailing along. It was super fun and the sunset was to die for. I, in my glory, decided to climb the mast via a net. For a grand finale, after spotting whales, I among a few other intellectually challenged friends jump overboard. All and all the day was a success. 

The following morning I attended a township visit that a professor had invited me on. I expressed interest in taking charge of an informational piece for One World Futbol, the soccer ball company I distributed for in Ghana. We went to this “eco-township” to get footage and give the kids a nice surprise. The township was so cool. Everything was recycled. Talk about sustainable; these people knew how to make use of what they had. The actual houses were build with sandbags, which help keep them cool and since the ground is made of primarily sand it provides work and convenient building material for the people. The toilets, rather than a standard sewage system used earthworms to decompose waste in a take outside. The light fixtures were made out of buckets, the seats around the dinner table oil bins. There was a guesthouse, volunteer rooms, a school, health clinic and additional space for community activities. This was by no means any typical township. All of the innovation was thanks to, Di, one of the most inspirational women I’ve met. Di gave up a live of privilege and extreme wealth to benefit a cause greater than her. She left her seaside mansion, racist husband and comfortable life to pursue bigger things. After visiting a township with her Yoga class to deliver PB&J sandwiches, Di realized a large void in her own life. Stumbling upon a 10X10 room jam-packed with small children under the age of 5, naked, hungry, left crying in the dark she knew there was no way she could drive 10miles back to her comfortable mansion and live happily. The concept for the eco-township is a project that she has taken on. It is an idea that could be the cure for much poverty and strife in Africa and other countries. She calls the style, “township chic”- Be a little cuter, Di!

As soon as I have it I will post information about township if you ever visit

*This is an organization that is in the early stages. There is much need for donations but most of all volunteers. If ever in South Africa I encourage you to look Di up, you won’t regret it!

Day five my shark dive was cancelled so we hired the same driver who hosted our wine tour and headed to Cape Point. The Cape of Good Hope (formerly known as “Cape Stormy”) is the southernmost point of Africa. It is the place where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Indian. The views are unreal. We hiked to the highest point that is home to a lovely lighthouse where you can have dinner. On the beach nearby there are bunches of wild penguins that we attempted to play with. One charged me and that was the end of that. I bought some artwork at a super reasonable price. And as we were leaving we crossed over wild baboons! That evening a bunch of us went up the mountain to hang out with some South African college students. They were on the rugby team and friends of a friend. It was “jolly fun” to spend time with these guys. The house we were at was amazing and it overlooked the cape.

Day six. Again, my shark dive was cancelled. Major fail. Sorry family members who were looking forward to hearing of my dangerous encounter, but it didn’t work out! =( On the upside of the downfall, I can possibly try again in Singapore and Hawaii. So it wont be the most shark infested waters in the world, but hey, what can ya do? I did see whales breeching three times! Supa cool.

So now we sail on to Mauritius. Mark Twain once said, “God made Mauritius and modeled Heaven in its image”. Were only there for two days, but I will hopefully have SKYPE access and nice weather. We’ll see!

Love and miss you all, so much! 

God Bless the Rains Down in Africa

Quick Facts: Ghana was formed when the British colony of the Gold Coast and the Togoland trust territory merged together in 1957. It became the first sub-Saharan country in colonial Africa to gain its independence.
Population: 23,887,812 ranking 47th in the world
Religion: 68.8% Christian, all over shops are named after proverbs and Christian sayings such as: God’s Will Groceries or Peace be With You Bank. Too funny!
Language: 36.1% English so it was fairly easy to communicate. Other language were variations of Ewe a dialect unique to Ghana- One man offered to make me his wife and teach me to cook. When I explained that I was in school he said he could teach me Ewe also! What an offer!

So essentially I dedicated my entire week in Ghana to volunteering at Christ Village Orphanage. Most people in Ghana were not aware what the word “orphan” meant so it was better and less offensive to just call it Christ Village SCHOOL. Again, note the Christian reference. We were ready to leave super early but had to wait until the Ghanaian Government officials cleared the ship to disembark. Depending on what country you are in, this can be a rather lengthy process. It is basically up to these officials to decide what is considered clear. No surprise, these men would not clear the ship until they had a full breakfast and were offered lunch and dinner on board. So this is what they got. While we waited we went into town to exchange money. As we were walking down the 2mile long port road to find a taxi a large, uniformed man intercepted us. “Where you go?” he demanded. We explained the situation and he said simply “I take you.” So 3 of us piled into his car and he took us through town and walked us to the bank and the ATM free of charge asking for no money whatsoever. While everyone was at the ATM I saw a group of 5 kids hanging out on the curb. I walked over and sat down with them. We got to talking and one girl asked “Coke please?”…”You would like a coke?” “Yes madam! Yes!” So I stood up and they grabbed my arms and led me down a back alley (yes, I know this sounds dumb on my part, but I felt safe) to meet their families and to a little outdoor café. I bought drinks for the kids and filled their bright colored mugs. One girl sat on my lap and the other held my hand as locals explained to me “the kids like you very much, you give us much hope. Thank you.” My friends were worried so I walked back toward the ATM. Alex handed out her standard Pencils for her Pencils of Promise non-profit that was actually started by as SAS guy a few years back.

From here we got back on the boat, we had finally been cleared so we picked up passports and headed to Accra. The ride was about 3 ½ hours long. From here we were met by Raymond, the founder of Christ Village School and driven to Hohoe a small village about 5 hours North of Accra. It was a loooong ride. We stopped for a dinner of rice, spicy tomato paste and some kind of meat I decided not to eat. As we drove at busy intersections people were bombarding our van with everything from fresh bread to plantains that we could buy through our windows. I tried some fried plantains---basically an unsweetened, green banana-pretty tasty! Similar to a potato chip.

We got to our hotel and were tucked in; 4 to one bed, 5 to another by a big African Gramma. She asked us what we would like in our omelets and made sure we were up on time. In the morning we ate outside at a fancy (fancy for Ghana that is) table and then were picked up by Raymond, his girlfriend and the ever-mysterious John. John not only stayed with us and ate with us for most of out time in Hohoe, he also introduced us to his family, took us out to OBAMA BAR (they LOVE Obama) and showed me the best place to get my hair done. He basically just made sure we were taken care of. He was obsessed with getting pictures with his new white friends. In fact, he made a point to get one photo with each of us and was sure to change up the background and pose. I had him shake my hand so we looked very official. Side note: No one knows who John was, or why he was with our group. We think now, he was just “hanging out with white friends”

Within 10 seconds of arriving to the orphanage I was holding a baby in my arms. We were briefed by Raymond in the dining hall. He explained that this project was his own, after he went to school his family hoped he would go to America or work in Europe but he wanted only to help his community. He is saddened by the gender inequalities in his country and sees the best solution to this problem in education. I really respected his dedication and explanation as to why he started the orphanage and was very impressed by the progress they were making. While we were visiting a woman from London, a representative from Jolly Phonics was at the school doing training with the teachers. Our job was basically to take over teaching and keeping an eye on the kids so the teachers could attend the meetings. I was one of two people who were assigned my very own class. Kindergarten II so my students were 5, 6, 7. WHAT A HANDFUL. Aunt Ruthie I don’t know how you do it! These kids were bouncing off the walls. When I first came in it was obvious I would have to gain their respect. They were fascinated by me but at the same time overly excited to have visitors. Two older boys were playing tug-o-war with the smallest boy in the class. When I turned to them they dropped him on his face and there were inevitably tears. With this, another girl began crying and before I knew it 10+ kids were throwing themselves on the ground out fake crying. I was at a loss, so I too threw myself on the ground in a ball and began crying. Things got quiet very quickly. Everyone ran to the front of the room and began pulling me off the floor. “Madam! Madam! It is OK. Do not be sad Madam White Girl!”  I could hardly contain my laughter.

From here I got everyone to at least be quiet and most of the kids were in their seats. Major progress. I took out a globe ball and began to toss it around. “Where am I from?” I inquired. “GHANA!!” No, no, no. I point to Asia. “YES!!!” No, no, no. “America!” I explained. “OBAMA!” They yelled back. “Madam are you from Hollywood?” Everyone seems to think I’m from a) Hollywood or b) Manhattan. Wrong.

We proceeded with some sharing activities and games that I made up on the spot. Overall it was a successful day and I fell in love with these adorable kids one by one all day.

Recess lasted from pretty much after lunch until 3pm. The lunch was decent. Beans with spicy tomato paste (yet again) and some boiled yams on the side.

Before going back to the hotel we visited the monkey village. We fed the monkeys who are considered sacred. According to our guide they have never found one dead monkey, they live forever. Oh geez…one jumped on my arm because I guess I was holding my banana too high. It was intense, but we got pictures.

We enjoyed a delicious dinner made with love from our African Gramma. Fried chicken, fried rice, peanut soup and the best spicy tomato paste yet. After this John picked us up and we walked down the dirt roads into town to go to some bars. It began raining. Slowly but surely our group plus some locals stepped out from the sheltered patio to dance to some African Zuk (music). It was the best thing ever. We were stomping in puddles and spinning around singing and just so happy. One of my top 10 moments so far.

The following day we worked again at the orphanage. Pretty similar to day 1 only my class was really well behaved today. I gave the kids the soccer ball from One Futbol World Project; a new non-profit that I am working with on the ship. Basically a man saw these kids in third world countries playing soccer with tin cans wrapped in twine and was very upset by it. He didn’t see why these kids couldn’t at least have a decent soccer ball. The problem, he found out, was that when balls were donated they would break within days because of the rough terrain the kids play on/amount they are used. So he developed this goal to engineer the world’s first indestructible soccer ball. Sting helped fund the project. It is based out of Napa Valley, California and the actual factory is an old CROCS factory, which is the same material these balls are made out of. It is a similar structure as TOMS Shoes where there is one ball donated for every ball that is purchased. We are helping distribute them on our trip because that is the one aspect of the company that is still a little shotty. The kids were OBSESSED. It was so funny to watch 30+ kids chase this ball around with extreme intensity. 5 kids ripped off their shirts and one kid even took off his pants. Basically every boy minus this one little cutie that was holding my hand took off. He said that he did not want to play soccer; he dreamed of being a surgeon ☺

I got really sick after lunch that day ☹ So when my group went to the waterfall hike I stayed back and got my hair done. It was super fun to hang out with the local women. One lady who I approached in the street to ask directions stayed with me the entire time to help out. Everyone from the village kept coming in and asking to see “the pale one with the head of gold” they wanted to touch my hair and help braid. Good stuff.

Ubuntu- “the God in me sees the God in you”

The energy of the people was second to none. I feel very uplifted and thankful for the chance to help these kids and again hope to eventually travel back and see the progress Raymond has made with his school. Bless you Raymond, African Gramma and all the kids at Christ Orphanage!

*More Morocco/Ghana photos to come soon! Miss ya'll!

ONE LOVE

So you can fall in love in Spain, but I fell in love WITH Morocco. Where to begin?

DAY ONE

I was fortunate enough to link up with Sara, a native of Morocco who was adopted as a child by a Peace Corp volunteer and raised in America. That morning, Sara gave a comprehensive overview and customs briefing to the entire shipboard community. I’ve been encouraging her to try her hand in travel writing. Her presentation was rather captivating/humorous, as anyone who witnessed it would agree.

We disembarked at 0900 after breakfast on the ship and set out into the city of Casablanca. We decided to trek it rather than taking a taxi, hoping to get a better feel for the country. We walked probably two miles approaching a decadent mosque. We just happened to port on Ramadan. One might compare this day to Christmas in the US. If Muslim countries are strict, generally speaking, on Ramadan they outdo themselves. It was entertaining to see the get-ups that SAS girls threw together to make sure hair, shoulders and legs were covered while combating 90* weather. Toward the front of the mosque we found masses of locals, mainly filthy children, jumping into even filthier waves off the giant stonewalls. I struck up a conversation with a man watching the chaos and much to my surprise was able to communicate quite coherently. I could feel my years of French studies flowing back into my brain and somehow out of my mouth in response to his rapid-fire words. The primary language of Morocco is French, secondary Arabic and as you approach the Atlas Mountains, Berber- a language unique to the indigenous peoples or “gypsies” of North Africa. This makes for, in my opinion, an interesting mix of language.

As we circled the mosque, taking photos and admiring the intricately colored tiles I stepped aside to breathe for a second. Sitting on the stairs looking around I met eyes with an adorable I’d say 3-year-old boy. I smiled and spoke to him in simple French assuming he was likely fluent in Arabic. He ran to his fathers’ side, ducking behind him out of my view. His dad leaned down, and whispered something in his ear, pointing my way. The little guy bashfully shakes his head, no way! His dad whispered something to him again and this time, to my surprise, he comes running toward me. At this point I’m not entirely sure what to do so I just keep smiling, anticipating what might come next….he gets up on his tip toes and plants the sweeeeetest cold little kiss on my cheek! He runs back toward his dad, again, hiding behind him. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the most incredible feeling. I pushed my sunglasses down over my eyes and stared at the ground (tears, what tears?). Apparently a lot of my friends witnessed this special moment. Someone even happened to have their camera ready and captured the kiss ☺

We spent the remainder of the afternoon walking the city, waiting to break the Ramadan fast with locals at a authentic little restaurant. I mentioned to our server how much I loved the glass tea cups. At the end of the meal he approached me asking “blue or green?” green is my favorite color, when I told him this he proceeded to wrap up a cup and place it in my hands. I tried to offer him money but he refused. “No, no! Just remember me. It is a gift…un cadeaux!” he kept repeating. Of course, I will.

Top 10 DON’TS in MOROCCO

10. Trust the “time”
9. Eat the ice! You’ll get sick! 
8. Forget to tell SAS where you will be on 9/11
7. Let bugs hang out in your ear
6. Put the scarves on your head! You’ll get lice!
5. Forget toilet paper (they wipe with their left hand)
4. Dance with you pashmina off in front of an all-men café
3. Shake hands in greeting with your left hand
2. Wear and Ibiza mank-top to a Berber village
1. Eat with your left hand


DAY TWO/THREE- Camel trek in the Sahara

Hopped a train to Marrakech, rode standard class to again maximize our time interacting with locals. Had my first encounter with Moroccan bathrooms. The train broke down twice, so the 4-hour ride took 6. Around hour 5 I broke down and staggered (the ride was very bumpy) toward the restroom. There were women crowding outside since there was no more room left to sit in the stuffy cabins. I walked in, nearly threw up and walked immediately back out. No toilet paper. Lucky for me I had packed some tissues in my backpack so I grabbed those and headed back making my way through the crowd. I tried to be as discreet as possible, but it was obvious the women were on to me. Hysterically laughing and pointing, making the biggest scene they shouted “Na, naah, naaaah! Not in Maroc! NOOOOT in Maroc!” I laughed and went in, ready to take on whatever lied ahead. Peeing on this moving train while managing to not make contact with anything around me was challenging to say the least.

We were traveling in white vans up narrow, winding mountain roads. Views of shantytowns and high altitudes shocked us at every turn. We quickly learned the concept of African time (or lack there of). “Go with the flow” takes on a whole new meaning. I assume this would have been okay with most of us, had it not been September 11th, had there not been threats of Qur’an burning in America and had our French/American drivers not switched to primarily Arabic hardly French speaking after dark (when we should have already arrived at our camp). It began raining and it seemed that we were driving straight into nowhereness. Needless to say, things good a little eerie. I tried to rationalize…”no worries guys, everyone registered the trip through Semester at Sea, they know to expect us…” Nope. Not one person in my van had informed the ship of where we were traveling. True feelings of worry didn’t set in until we turned off the main mountain road and onto…dirt? So now we are with an Arabic man, off-roading, in the middle of the High Atlas Mountains, on 9/11, nearly 5 hours off the time our itinerary showed us arriving, after dark and nobody has record of where we are “supposed” to be. Being one of two who could semi-communicate with our driver I tried to keep cool. I tried asking what road we were on? “LA RUE?” as simple as I could say it. Nope. This word meant nothing to him. Continue driving…toward…where? I wanted to call the ship. BlackBerry…way dead. One girl had her BlackBerry but no international plan. I took her battery, put it in my phone and called the ship. That eased my mind a little. Finally, about the time I get off the phone, we arrive at a place with a sign reading “TOUMBUCK TOO” sound familiar?

At this point I was somewhere between hysterically laughing and crying. I think we all were (minus the bro’s who just wanted to get on a camel and drink---idiots) I asked them to at least wait until we got to camp to start celebrating and to drink at their own discretion. After a 2hour trek into the pitch-black Sahara (minus the stars which were the most beautiful I’ve ever seen) we arrive at our camp. “Chez Mohammed”

We spent the night dining on a traditional 5-course meal, using our right hands as substitutes to silverware. After dinner and some Saharan Red Wine that I shared with my table, we began drumming. Daniel and I kicked things of with some impromptu beats, but we were soon moved to the front of camp where the Berber men began to play. The sound was all encompassing and the energy that consumed that camp made some tribal dance hard to resist.

The following morning, after sleeping under the stars we woke up at 5am (those who preferred to sleep-in were bombarded by drums) and saw for the first time the vast Sahara desert spreading for miles around us. The dunes were as high as mountains; so we set out to climb, roll down, sprint down and Sandboard over these sandy hills from all angles. After a few hours of frolicking we set back toward the main camp on camel back. Mid way through our trek we stopped once more in the middle of the Sahara for an impromptu dance/drum party. Success.

DAY FOUR/FIVE- Home stay in Elgara

After an exhausting 2 days in the Sahara, a part of me wanted to take its easy back on the ship. Sara had invited me to an overnight home stay with the family who housed her dad back in the 80’s while he was volunteering in the Peace Corps. After minimal contemplation, I made up my mind…how could I resist?

13 of us SAS girls set out in pre paid cabs to Elgara. After a Moroccan music filled cab-ride (standard, la musique s’il vous plait!) we arrived at a shabby looking apartment. As we walked inside ohhh’s and ahhh’s filled the echoing hallways. It was decorated like a small palace! The room we stayed in had bench seating around the entire perimeter, a large balcony overlooking the town, carved light fixtures and the charming hand painted tile from ceiling to floor. The family could not have been more welcoming. I felt like I was visiting an old friends or long lost relatives (minus the language barrier). They did speak a good amount of French so that was helpful. We, again, ate an incredible 5-course meal. The best lemon chicken with fresh green olives, garlic-dipping juices, some sort of sweet spaghetti with white raisins that we sprinkled powdered sugar on… MmMmmMmmm! Moroccan food is so fresh. We ended each meal with honeydew or “Moroccan Melon” is what I was told when I inquired.

After a wonderful dinner we walked a few blocks to a Hemmem. For those who don’t know, a Hemmem is a bathhouse that Moroccan women visit once/twice per week to cleanse themselves. As soon as we entered, a teenage girl who held my hand the whole way there began unfastening my bra and throwing my clothes all over the floor. She turned and did the same to my new friend Adora. We were hysterically laughing and pretty unsure of how to react. We went along with it as everyone else was doing pretty much the same. For the sacred nature of the Moroccan Hemmem I’ll spare you the details from here. In short, I had the most thorough shower via bucket water of my entire life. I’ve never felt so clean!

The following day we woke up to enjoy yet another extravagant breakfast. Moroccan Mint Tea, oh yes! After breakfast we ventured outside to see the town. I had slept fairly well, minus waking up to the call of prayer and an extended (from 4:30am-5:30am) reading of the Qur’an. It is sounds somewhere between creepy and soothing, but after about 15 minutes I was able to zone out and fall back asleep. In town, I managed to gather my typical following of kids. I started out with two little boys who I tossed a bouncy ball and ended with roughly 10 young boys and two of the sweetest girls tugging at my crazy-pants (you’ll understand when you see photos). I offered the girls my extra large bottle of water and they ran quickly away. Thinking I had offended them, I sat down on a bench to contemplate the interaction. Suddenly the two little dolls came running back toward me, holding hands open they offered to me a mound of sunflower seeds. In Morocco it is common practice to always return a gift with an equal or better gift. Rats. Not my intent. I sat on the bench enjoying sunflower seeds with the girls, one on my lap the other holding my hand. Freeze frame…happy moment.

A group of the girls I had traveled with started yelling my name. Apparently Yasseif, the son of the family we were staying with had taken it upon himself to track down the local Peace Corp volunteer and introduce her to me. Alex was her name. She was wearing an “As Tall as Lions” tee shirt and had a tattoo on her wrist reading Only Human. We went inside and shared tea, consumed in good conversation, new friends and funny coincidences. Overwhelmed, again, by the subtle beauty and surprises of Morocco. I love this country.

IN CLOSING
As you can probably tell, Morocco rocked my world. Between the language and kindness of those I encountered it stamped a permanent place on my heart. I’m sincere when I say I hope I may someday return to this wonderful place and send a little love back their way.

*Is that enough Emotion for you K-Ham?

**Photos soon, Ghana in T-2days---holla!

Semi-Charmed Kind of Life

Sea Legs

We are sailing closer to Spain each day. My new passion is trip planning. The library has books for each port that we can check out and my roomy and I both brought a decent amount (whattup half-price books?!). Soo anyway, we booked a trip from Cadiz via train to Seville and then onto Barcelona by plane. It was only 135 Euros which was better than I anticipated for a round-trip. Another big group is traveling to Ibiza, but we decided against it since it seems to be a trip dedicated to overpriced cover fees and drunken nights.

Classes started yesterday and we’re pretty much just on the ship trying to entertain ourselves. Everything a person would normally do is 10x as fun because the waves rock you 24/7, even while you're trying to sleep at night. Let's just say Ping-Pong on the top deck is highly entertaining...and we play a lot of cards/apples to apples in massive groups. I feel like I'm getting my imagination back! We hardly drink ever bc its pretty strict, alcohol is really only available at dinner and on PUB NIGHTS and even then its a 5drink limit of beer/wine and its $3.50per glass, so I’ve only had one glass of Red La Terre.

The boat is made up of such a diverse mix, which I really appreciate. We met these boys from Mexico City who are hilarious. They were trying to teach us phrases for Spain. I learned the word “pedo”, meaning “to fart” which is supposedly substituted for most everything making phrases like “are you drunk → are you fart” or “what’s up → what’s fart” haha. I’ve also founded a co-ed “tanning club”, we meet daily between classes to fight global warming by soaking the UV-Rays into our own skin. Lemme tell you, self-sacrifice is not an easy thing!

My classes thus far are SO interesting. I am taking: Sustainable Communities, Social Issues of the Contemporary World, Global Studies (which everyone is required to take), World Poetry (obsessed), and Poverty and Economic development. I feel like this is an ideal schedule to expose me to new studies and prepare me further for the PeaceCorps.

CONTACT INFO:
Email- enmyers@semesteratsea.net
BBM- mypin: 3229A752
*I can be reached at either of these most anytime, free of charge!

In closing I’ll leave you with a little excerpt from a poem I discovered this afternoon, it perfectly describes my experience thus far:

Here is a coast; Here is a harbor;
here after a meager diet of horizon,
is some scenery.
-Elizabeth Bishop