Communication Works For Those Who Work At It

One thing I love about Spain is the language barrier. Though I speak enough Spanish to get by, my grammar and my vocabulary are limited. Yet, it seems that every person I meet is more than willing to spend the time and effort on the communication between us, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Before I left on this voyage I was well aware that in many countries, I would not and will not be able to speak any of the language. However between Kristen and me we are more than fit to communicate with the locals here.

Today the most extraordinary thing happened. While we were walking up the avenida (avenue) a man shouted “Ciao.” (No worries, he was with his girlfriend/wife, whom we met previously.) We abruptly ended our conversation to look over at the man; it was the same man who served us hot chocolate and pastries the evening before. Yesterday, this man sat behind the counter of a café explaining “nata” to us…which we now know as whipped cream. We stopped and smiled, greeting each other like old friends passing on the street. Kristen and I looked at each other and felt such an overwhelming sense of happiness. And it got me thinking—he was certainly not the only person who has treated me with such kindness, to stop and ask how my day was going after meeting only briefly, along this trip.

As a matter of fact, there have been multiple people and occasions where the communication was difficult and a slight struggle, but the Spaniards seems just as excited to help us learn the language as we were to comprehend it. I mean, we are studying abroad, right?

Last night at dinner we attempted to ask our waiter for olive oil, and when our pronunciation was wrong, he cheerfully spelt out the word on a napkin and taught us the proper diction: aciete de oliva. Throughout the meal he thoroughly explained each dish and each spice that went into it and as we nodded in understanding he would patiently listen to us butcher his native tongue, spelling out anything we mispronounced.

This morning, while on the phone with my mom, I bought a new ring from a gypsy on the side of the road. He looked like a pirate and after every question I asked him in broken Spanish about the ring, he would give me an answer in broken English. Looking back, I laugh at the two fools we must have sounded like. After lunch and a siesta, we were off exploring the town again and outside the post office we ran into the gypsy again. He smiled at me and asked how my day was going. I nodded and responded with a “bueno” and he asked if I was wearing my ring. In response, I lifted my hands to show off my new goods.

At dinner tonight we sat in a restaurant where the waiter spoke no English and his Spanish came out like gunfire. 90% of every sentence was lost while I was translating the first 10% in my head. Finally, he brought over the man, whom I can only assume was the owner, to help out with the translations. While they were out of certain foods, the owner suggested different meals and other substitutions taking great care to explain out it was prepared before we ordered. Once the meals came he double and triple checked to make sure we were enjoying it. On his last visit he asked us if we were from the boat of students (estudiantes del barco) and wanted to know where we were from and about our studies around the world. When we finally left we waved goodbye and he pressed his fingertips to his mouth, kissing them and sending it into the air, shouting, “Mucho Gusto” (Nice to meet you).

It simply amazes me at how kind people are to the foreigners. Granted, we are girls, and we are spending money, but it’s just different here. I’m not really sure how to explain it. In America, we may be in too much of a rush to communicate with the people who come into our lives…even without a language barrier. It seems that people make it a point to know your face before you step out of their lives.

After this striking, thought provoking day, I’ve decided to take on a new project while I’m abroad. I want to learn a little bit of every language that I can take with me forever. We have plenty of books here in the library and the internet will be a new great source. I want to look at the different ways people use communication in each country. After all, I am a communications major. I wonder, will they be as friendly and welcoming in Casablanca? Time will only tell.

"Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after."

~Anne Morrow Lindburgh

The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain...

Right now I am sitting on the steps on La Catedral in Cadiz, Spain, so overwhelmed with people and emotions I could cry. Who knew that I would call in love with the first city on my voyage around the world. Tourists are taking photos, like I did only days ago. There are locals sitting at the cafes, walking their children in strollers, and enjoying this glorious winter day with their friends and dogs. As a matter of fact a cute little black and white, fluffy mutt just came and sat next to me, begging for a sip of coffe and a tast of my muffin. His owner is sitting across the square, smoking a cigarette with a friend. An older gentleman is setting up his easle in the sun.

Today is my third day in Spain. We arrived on Wednesday and when Kristen opened the cutrains, we screamed with excitment. Of course, my second reaction was to call my parents until I realized...it was 3 am in New York. We quickly rushed to breakfast, dressed and waited to disembark. Finally, after 45 minutes of waiting on a line to get off the ship, we finally touched land after 9 days in the Atlantic. Almost immediately we were rushed off to a bus to meet our tour-guide, Luisa, a Cadiz native.

She took us around the city and taught us of the culture and history of the land we were visiting. We took a drive around the Old Town and into the New Town, where we stopped to take pictures at the Baya de Cadiz (The Bay of Cadiz). Our walking tour started at the Museo de Cadiz (The Cadiz Museum), where archelogical artifacts from the bottom of the bay go when they are uncovered. A quick waltz to the Torre Tavira, the highest point in Cadiz and an old lookout point, most my favorite part of the day. Inside the tower is a Camura Obscura, which is so difficult to discribe, but escentially a live camera made of mirrors. In a dark room, you stand around a large white...bowl...and suddenly they open the mirrors, similar to the concept of a parascope in a submarine, and then inside the bowl, the city is displayed live in front of your eyes. It looks as though you are looking ito a crystal ball. You can see the cars driving along the back roads and people tanning on their rooftop gardens. We even saw the Explorer being cleaned. After that we wound in and out through different alleys and avenues and finally found our way to the local market, where I cunningly bought a new pair of earings from a local gypsy. We visited the Teatro Romano (The Roman Theatre), ancient ruins dating back to 1 BCE. Then it was time for lunch.

We ate in a small restauraunt in the same square I am sitting in right now. We had various tapas like croquettas (fried balls of ham, rice and cheese--think rice balls), and a patte pescado (fish patte), and a glorious salad with fresh chicken. Then our main meals came, I had fresh shrimp baked in a phyllo crust with a side of roasted potatoes, sauteed mushrooms and a heavenly salsa made of fresh veggies on the side. Of course all of this was served with the local wine. Then for desert we had a fabulous frozen chocolate mouse cake, with little pieces of biscotti inside. We finished our tour with a trip to another museum, in which the name escapes me (I'll get back to you.)

Later that night we went to an Andalucian Flamenco Show. There was a horse show involved, where the horses and the dancers danced together, and then a bloodless bullfight with the cutest Matadors ever. Though I never caught their names, we've decided "Cute Butt Boy" and "Fabulous Hair Boy" are sufficient enough. The show continued after we moved into a banquet hall and a traditional floor show began. We sat with eyes wide, drinking sangria and eating tortillas. I've never seen such pasion in dancing. Needless to say, when we returned to the ship, we were nothing short of exhausted.

The next morning we were up and out again, this time to a city 2 hours away, in Sevilla (Seville) with Ilario as a guide. We toured the town at the Catedral (Cathedral), the largest in the world from it's era, climbed the bell tower (La Grialda), and then Alcazar (The Palace) next door. In the cathedral the alter piece had over 1,000 figures in it depicting scenes from the New Testament and it was painted gold. Every window inside is made of stained glass and it makes the various burial sites almost beautiful. Even Christopher Columbus is buried here, as well as his son. We climbed 36 flights to the top of the bell tower where again, we were able to see the entire city at a bird's eye view. After climbing back down, we went to The Alcazar, next door, which is where the King and Queen stay when they visit. It was a marvelous palace, designed with a combination of Roman, Arabic and Neoclassical features. The combination was breathtaking.

After our return back to the ship, Kristen and I freshened up and heading out to town again. As many of the stores and restaraunts were still on a siesta, we found a cafe that was open and stepped inside. The only two Americans in the place, we ordered hot chocolate (aka liquid milk chocolate with frothy whipped cream called, Nata), a large sugar cookie and, my guess would be, a slice of german chocolate cake with whipped cream layers and chocolate syrup on top. We made friends with the owner inside and plan on returning for breakfast on Saturday, our last day here. Once we decided the stores would be open, we decided to get lost in the city and quickly found our way into the shopping district of town. We made a stop into a local book store and a few shops along the way. On our adventure we found another store, Blanco, and I happened to buy a new dress and shoes. After finding our way around we stumbled upon another quaint little restaraunt and had more croquettas and paella. We took the long way back to the ship...ending up on the other side of town completely. It was great, we had a few laughs.

As I finish today's entry, an accordian player and his guitarist companion have set up in the alley , the man and the dog have left the square and my coffee is growing colder. With only one more day left in Spain, I think I will just get lost in the city and meet some more locals. It is a fabulous city that welcomes you with open arms and helping hands.

Another Day at Sea

As the third night onboard the MV Explorer comes upon us all I can hope is that Cabin Fever doesn’t set in too early. Not to say I want more coursework or anything—it’s just that there is only so much you can do throughout the day. Napping and eating shouldn’t be considered major activities on the itinerary. Yet, while at sea, classes, meals, the gym and a nap or too seems to take up a decent amount of time. Of course there are a few people who are brave enough to nap outside in their bathing suits, soaking in the sun on the 7th deck.

Yesterday was a flashback to freshman orientation. We had a strict schedule chock full of meaningless meetings. There were meetings on the Honor Code and plagiarism, and the Library and how to use your laptop on board. We even went over how to cite materials. As if 20+ year old college kids don’t know. (And if you don’t know how to cite properly at this point, I’m extremely disappointed in you.) But my favorite part of this whole process is that we went over the cheating policy, etc. in full detail and we signed a form MONTHS ago, saying we understood these policies. If I already signed something saying I understood, why go over it again? What, after hearing it from you do you think I’ll stand up and shout, “Oh wait, I’d like to retract my form!”? It’s preposterous. You wouldn’t be allowed onboard without all the forms filled out.

Well, today was the first day of classes. I had Global Studies—the most confusing class and boring class I’ve ever taken…but it’s a requirement, so I guess I can put up with it. Basically it covers each port we’re going to on the itinerary so we have a general idea of what to expect and a decent foundation and respect for the country. Or at least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. Today at 9:15, “The Voice” as we call it (or the guy who comes over the PA system throughout the ship) announced that Global Studies was starting in 5 minutes. By 9:20 the entire ship was up and packed into crevices around the 6th deck. The fortunate few sit in the Union, where the actual professor (or guest lecturer) is speaking. The rest of the ship sits in satellite classrooms throughout the ship where a live video feed is displayed on the television. Kristen and I try to get to the Union early and find a seat (if I sit in a satellite room I’m afraid I won’t pay ANY attention). Today we started with the theme of the whole voyage: Migration. We were talking about the Out of Africa Theory and evolution/natural selection…which all made sense to me and was a related topic to the theme. But my professor lost me when he started talking about photosynthesis and energy. I’m still not quite sure how it all related, or how he made the transition. But the next thing I know we’re discussing how plants consume calories and how I should thank a plant everyday for not only the oxygen I need to survive, but the energy I have. Thinking about it now…I’m still at a loss for an explanation.

Moving on, I had an art history class called Sacred Sites. Basically it covers all the great historical and spiritual places in the countries we’ll be traveling to. The fieldwork for that class basically consists of trips to museums, gardens, mosques, cathedrals, etc. My professor really has a HUGE background in traveling—he’s lived all over the US plus places like Australia (Tasmania). He was giving us the 411 of all the places he and his wife had gone to and it really was miraculous. Then I had an English class, Studies in Poetry. The class seems good, but I feel like my professor has a hard time relating our travels to the material, so I’m not quite sure how we, as students, are supposed to. But I guess I’ll figure it all out as time goes on. And don’t worry Mom and Dad—I’ve already got plenty of reading assignments and papers due for the next class.

Tomorrow I have Global Studies again—it’s a daily class—and my biology class, Nutrition around the World. My professor is the Dean of Students onboard…which tells me he’s probably going to be a real stickler. It’s also laundry day for me (deck 4, port side). Laundry runs on a strict schedule here. If you miss laundry day, then you’re shit out of luck and have to wash your clothes in the sink. I know I’ll come to appreciate laundry day, but looking at the schedule I’m slightly taken aback. Apparently laundry, like everything else on this ship, closes down during times at port. Which means that for the month of March my laundry will be done twice—March 2 and March 28! And sadly enough, I did NOT bring 26 days worth of clothes with me. Not that I should complain, I mean someone is washing my clothes, right?

Let me say to any future Semester at Sea travelers:

1) Running on the treadmill when at sea is not as easy as it seems. Rocky seas=rocky ship=no walking in straight walking.

2) Steal fruit and rolls from the cafeteria. Living on a strict time schedule for food is not fun.

“The internet brings the world to your desk. Semester at Sea brings your desk to the world.”

~Orientation, Semester at Sea, Spring 09

We Set Sail at 1700!

Welcome to the MV Explorer! :-D

Kristen and I were up and checked out of Atlantis by 9:45 this morning just to wait on a line for 2 hours to get onto the ship. After that whole grueling process we found out room and went through a check-in. All in all it was very organized.

We had lunch (tacos) and then we organized out room. We have a junior suite on board, on the 4th floor. After unpacking 4 months worth of clothes and other stuff, I took a short nap :-) At 1530 hours (3:30 pm), we had a Life Boat Drill. We had to wear long pants and shirts and sneakers. Attendence was taken and we were even graced by the Captain. [He walked right past me!] <--Hence the sarcasm?

Looking out the window, the sun is setting. And all I can see is ocean. We arrive in Cadiz, Spain in 9 days.

Anyway, I'm also attempting to upload photos on Facebook--which is not working. Okay, and since I'm paying for the internet by the minute I'm gonna log off. I'll write as soon as possible.

Everything's Better in The Bahamas!

Well, I know all you Northerners are dealing with the snow and 25 degree weather, but I'm proud to report it is 73 degrees and sunny here in The Bahamas. Yesterday, it was a little cloudy, but nevertheless, better than snow and ice in New York and Connecticut.

Atlantis is beautiful. Everything here is so glamorous. And it's HUGE! Ladies and gents I'm talking massive...you can seriously get lost in this mini city. From the casino to the restaurants and cafes, the nightclub, the aquarium and the beach, the pools, the shopping (Gucci, Versace, Colombian Emeralds, etc.), Atlantis has everything including a mini water park. The only catch--everything costs a hefty fee. To go to the gym: $15. Internet for 24 hours: $14.95. My cosmopolitan: $14, Kristen's Pina Colada: $9.20. But all-in-all we're having a great time.

Pretty much all the college kids walking around here are going on SAS, so we've gotten to know a few people so far. Tonight everyone from SAS is meeting at Senior Frogs for dinner and drinks. And tomorrow we board the ship. And that's when the real adventure starts.

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...

I'M LEAVING ON A JET-PLANE!!!!! [Ok, so I'm a little tone deaf---don't judge me!]

I've officially finished my packing (minus the few toiletries I'll need in the morning). I've got 2 duffel bags on my floor, packed to the max. One duffel is strictly clothes, and I'm talking a closet worth of clothes. Oh, and by the way, any of you bad-packers out there--ROLL YOUR CLOTHES! I literally saved like 1/2 the space (aka was able to pack double the amount of clothes into my suitcase) once the clothes were rolled.

The other duffel is overflowing with shoes, toiletries, and books. Obviously, we can all tell where my priorities lie. Shoes=my inner fashionista. Toiletries=so what if I'm a little vain, smelling good is a necessity, not an option. Books=my favorite pastime.

Some of the damage:

• 9 pairs of pants (jeans and yoga pants/capris)
• 15 shirts (9 everyday, 6 gym/pjs)
• 1 vest
• 3 pairs of shorts
• 2 sweatshirts
• 1 skirt
• 2 sun dresses
• 14 pairs of underwear
• 8 pairs of shoes
• 11 books

I've also packed my backpack, which feels odd to say; I haven't used a backpack since...5th grade? It's got all the chargers and my laptop<--key to daily survival.

I'm leaving Mom and Dad a binder full of goodies--itinerary, emergency contact information, class schedule, etc. [P.S. When the two of you read this tomorrow I just want to remind you--stop panicking...I'm a big girl and trust me, I'm doing fine. Mom, I promise to be responsible and safe. Dad, I'll absorb all the experiences "like mashed sweet potatoes."]

All that's left is to set my alarm. Goodnight!

I'll see you all in May.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

The thing about time is that it never stops. Sometimes its a good thing. Sometimes its bad. But in the end, time keeps ticking away--life goes on. January 17th is slowly drawing nearer and nearer, and on that morning I'll get up and head to the airport. I'll say goodbye to my family and won't see them for 4 months. Of course, I'm excited to prepare for this journey ahead of me. And at the same time I'm scared out of my mind. I wish I could freeze time here, at home, go on my adventure, and then come back, where nothing has changed. Time seemed to slip past me. I feel like I didn't get to say a proper goodbye to anyone--friends and family alike. Yet, big tearful goodbyes make me sick. I'd rather just pack up and be off with a simple "Until next time...".

And I can't help but thing, when I come home how much is going to change? By the time I step foot back into my house, my baby brother will have been accepted to and decided on what college he is going to. My sister will have a date to the semi-formal and have a dress all picked out. She'll be getting ready for high school. My puppy will have grown up [and hopefully out of his chewing habit]. There are birthdays and holidays I won't be here to celebrate.

Mind you, there will be so many things in my life that have changed too. So many experiences that my family will only be able to understand through my pictures and scattered thoughts.

When I was in 10th grade, my English teacher told us life was like a loaf of bread. Together each slice makes up a loaf of bread, but we must remember each slice of bread is individual, like a memory. There is a slice for preschool school and high school graduation and college and birthdays. I'm just realizing my semester abroad is another slice in my loaf.

I know this semester will be nothing short of amazing, but its bittersweet to think that my family won't be able to be at my side throughout it all [expect for in the emotional/spiritual sense]. And it makes me wonder: how much will I have changed when I come home? The friends I make and the experiences I have abroad will stay with me forever and I hope they change me for the better. I hope I come home with a new love for the cultures around the world.

So to finish today's post I have a few words: There are no needs for goodbyes because in a few days I'll be seeing you again. Don't panic--time will keep moving on, but it doesn't mean you have to be overwhelmed by it. Take each day for what it is and enjoy what life has to offer. And remember, distance is only as far as you make it...a cell phone and computer can be found anywhere. Trust me communication is the key to any relationship.

Words of wisdom: "Yesterday is history. Tomorrow, a mystery. Today is a gift--that's why we call it the present."