Semester at Sea

I probably had the most preconceived negative notions about Japan. I’d recently heard and read several news features about societal issues that colored my impression of the country. Not issues of horrible crime rates or human rights violations, but more subsurface issues like high suicide rate, the biggest compensation gap by gender among developed countries, a trend of “cuteness” as sexy contributing to a rise in child pornography. A guide book cautioned against smiling for no reason, saying that the Japanese think we look like monkeys grinning all over the place for no reason. Since smiling is my primary strategy in foreign countries, I especially disliked this tidbit. Stereotypes are generalizations formed from lack of experience or knowledge, and so I took these bits and formed stereotypes in my mind that made me less enthusiastic about seeing Japan than the other countries.

“Watch for joy. I think there’s going to be a shortage,” I told Shira as we set out to make Japan our best travel yet. Shira has been to Japan several times before and loves it, so she had been trying to persuade me that it’s an amazing country. Spotting joy became a fun side game to our travels, like license plate spotting on a road trip, but with more gratification. “Joy!,” Shira would shout and point peridiocally. I would discount some of them (“That’s fake businessman laughter- it doesn’t count,” or “I think they’re laughing at us- joy at our expense doesn’t count”), but as a whole, I couldn’t deny that even in this serious society, joy is present. Women giggle together in groups, painters on the street smile as they work, children can’t be contained to walking from excitement over what could be coming around the corner, and couples stare at each other in train stations and city parks- we saw more than enough joy to prove me wrong and fill me with contentment.

With Shira’s expertise, we really did go out with a bang and see more of the country than one would think possible in six days. Japan is amazingly clean and efficient and their public transportation system made it possible to cover a ton of ground in a very short time. We got to see Yokohama, Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, Kobe, and Himeji. Yokohama was a sweet port town, very suburban feeling in comparison to Tokyo, Osaka, and Kobe. Kyoto is the Japan of your imagination, with beautiful temples, charming bridges, and traditional houses on every street. Osaska and Tokyo are Times Square on steroids- neon lights from ground to highest skyscraper for block after block after block seemingly with no end. In one day, we visited Kyoto, Osaka, and Kobe, which would be like trekking from Charlottesville to DC to Philly in one day, but the amazing infrastructure actually made this reasonable.

Kyoto was by far my favorite. We spent two nights in a little ryokan (Japanese guesthouse) there and once again rented bikes to cover more ground during our days. I am still wobbly but enthusiastic; Shira is adept but patient. It works out well. This is the second most beautiful time of year to visit Kyoto (after Cherry Blossom season) and the autumn leaves were stunning. One temple had a monthly community event for children to be dressed up in traditional attire and brought out to be photographed- this month’s event was coincidentally on our day in Kyoto and this month’s ages were threes and sevens. I might have burst from excitement without the outlet of taking pictures and waving Kunichiwa at all of them. We visited several temples and saw the town from our bikes at a leisurely pace, and ended up spending a day longer than we’d expected there because we liked it so much.

Other notable events: a bowl of “vegetarian” noodles with pork in Osaka (“Yes, vegetarian, no meat. Just pork!”), a visit to an onsen (public bath) with a median age of 70 and very helpful elderly women, a trip to see Himeji Castle, and a day at the most developmentally appropriate, wonderfully run YMCA childcare I’ve ever imagined (apex of joy spotting).

So Japan is far from joyless, and I loved our time there, but you can see the glimmers of the society that creates the phenomena that make headlines: the superficiality of the huge emphasis on fashion, the intensity of the businessmen sleeping on the trains at midnight with twitching eyes when their workday is just ending, the teens in heavy makeup, pigtails, and short schoolgirl uniforms, and the Manga just everywhere. One of my students wrote in his Japan blog that “They are so overly polite that its kind of scary in a way.” When I prompted him about this, he said “I don’t know. It’s just weird. It almost seems, like, fake.” He didn’t want to elaborate in his writing, but I knew exactly what he meant, and it fit with that larger picture of a very aesthetically oriented culture. This appreciation of aesthetics is what makes Japan so beautiful: the politeness, orderliness, efficiency, beauty of architecture, lack of litter, etc. are all the positive results of this appreciation, but to me, some of those darker issues aren’t unrelated to this focus, but are an underbelly of it. Problematic issues that are a side effect of positive traits is not unique to Japan; most of our societal ails in the U.S. could also find roots in the positive, and surely a Japanese visitor to the U.S. would find far more to criticize than the reverse. Even though Japan is the most developed country we’ve visited, I think it might also be the culture I felt least able to actually access. There was something so much more guarded and foreign to it. Even if I don’t understand it, there is joy and beauty, and I was so grateful to see an abundance of both in our last stop.

I’m in a thankful mood, since Thanksgiving just passed. As awesome as Dewald Thanksgiving is and as homesick as I was for the farm on Thanksgiving Day, we don’t ever do the round robin “I’m thankful for…,” which was nice to do at boat Thanksgiving the other night. (Boat Thanksgiving couldn’t hold a candle to the farm, but it could’ve been sadder for sure). What do you give say you’re thankful for when you’ve just traveled around the world? Everything! You’re bursting with it!

Even though the end of this time is bittersweet, I feel incredibly thankful to the chain of life events and to the amazing families that brought me to this opportunity. I am grateful for the excitement of having two starts to the school year in one year and am both sad to say goodbye to my three sweet boys and eager to get to know the 25 little people waiting in Classroom Six. I am so grateful for my family’s support, especially my wonderful sister for being a “single dog parent” for my difficult Milo while I was gone, and I’m excited to go back to our “Guacamole house” life. I’m grateful for the friends I made on the ship, particularly Shira, and for how they helped me to learn more about who I am. I'm grateful for my friends at home and for realizing how much I miss them when I'm away. I’m grateful for the clarity that this experience gave me; the opportunity to step back from the treadmill of teaching and daily life and think about where I’ve come from and where I’m going professionally and personally. Not that it gave me answers- it was just good to reassess the fact that I’m still so happy to have no idea! This sounds like an acceptance speech for some sort of award, and although I just highlighted it to delete the whole thing, I decided to leave it corny as it is without editing because it’s how I really feel at this moment.

Linguistics talks about code switching between languages or vernaculars, and in education I often think about the cultural code switching required of ESOL students in addition to the language switching. SAS is an exercise in cultural code switching, and it’s interesting to see who struggles with these switches in each port (e.g. The girls in small white dresses and heals in India). China was my hardest code-switch yet. Reentering a highly developed city after coming from a series of developing or undeveloped countries is a jolt (the same jolt I struggled with after transitioning back from Haiti that I couldn’t then articulate), and all of the new construction, wealth, and fashion rings so superficial.

I had tons of fun and learned so much, but all things being relative, and every other country being amazing, this port gave me my first regrets. I spent two days in Hong Kong, two days at sea, and then two days in Shanghai. I had the choice moths ago to travel independently between the two ports, to join a big SAS trip to Beijing, or to stay on the ship between the two ports. Once committed, you couldn’t deviate from your plan, and not knowing whom I’d travel with and trying to be frugal, I chose to stay on the ship. As the boys excitedly recount “the best trip ever” to the Great Wall, Forbidden City, and more, I’m filled with envy and regret! I made the most of my time in each city and was very productive during my time on the ship, but I would definitely do things differently if give another shot.

Hong Kong brings new meaning to the phrase concrete jungle. Skyscrapers and neon lights cover the mountain on the main island, and a giant escalator ramp running through the entire city connects commuters from the sea level business area and the higher residential neighborhoods. The escalator gives the city an even more futuristic feel. When we first arrived, we explored by foot, window shopping in the high-end areas and really shopping in Stanley Market across the island. In the market, shopkeepers make no attempt to cajole you into buying anything and bargain apathetically. The low energy took much of my fun out of my usual love for frenetic markets in other countries. Jin’s big thing is the power of charisma, and for as much as I would roll my eyes when he would tout charisma as all that was needed in a personality, I couldn’t stop thinking that this charisma was actually what the market lacked. We went next to Queen Victoria’s peak which overlooks the entire island. The beautiful panorama of Hong Kong (including our ship!) from the top was well worth the tram ticket cost. Amazingly, more department stores (I’ve never seen so many in my life) were also found at the top.

In the evening, we went out with friends of friends who live in Hong Kong to a horse race and out on the town. We had a ball and the feel of the night reminded me of fun times in New York (although I honestly think we see more Asian people in New York City than I did on this night). The next day, we metroed to Lantau Island to see the world’s biggest Buddha. Lantau was cute, the Buddha was awesome, and it was a day well spent. I was heartsick to get back on the ship for two sad days at sea while Shira went to have more fun out in Hong Kong. Hong Kong was altogether lovely- it’s like a very sanitary version of New York (there’s an obsession with sterilizing everything), but it feels as much like Asia as Cape Town felt like Africa. Shannon tells me that her law firm has a Hong Kong branch, and I’d visit her there as eagerly as I visit her in New York if she took a transfer, but I wouldn’t return simply to sightsee.

The Mediterranean climate and wide spoken English of Hong Kong didn’t prepare me for a cold, rainy Shanghai where virtually no one speaks English. Nonetheless, I did my marathon exploration of the city, seeing The Bund, Na Jing area, Yu Yuan gardens, and the French Concession- all lovely. We stalked Obama outside of a government building where he was speaking for a while, which was fun. We talked with an expat who was doing the same and were reminded that a public speech wasn’t made because of government censorship of what’s heard (Facebook and Youtube were blocked on the internet as we’d heard). We didn’t spot him, but had fun hovering, evading the officials who were trying to shoo lurkers, and speculating about which tinted car he was in!

China was fun and new. For every part of me that wants to be able to hold my own in any setting, an equal part of me wants to never get so far into it that I fail to see superficiality and the bigger picture of humanity. Heading into our wealthiest country yet (Japan) and then home to even more consumerism, I want to hold on to a tiny piece of that knee-jerk reaction at first seeing it through the lens of poverty. I’m always going to love a mall- I don’t want to pretend that I don’t- I just want to always be able to love it and see through it at the same time.

I have a hands-down favorite country now: Cambodia. Sort of on a whim, very much at the last second, and fairly indifferently, we booked a flight to Cambodia on our first morning in Vietnam. We debated for a bit because the ticket price was inflated by all of the SAS groups flying on the same day, but if I’d known how phenomenal it was going to be, I would’ve paid twice the price. Good karma also rewarded us with a $50 rebate for agreeing to be bumped to the next flight, so we spent 45 minutes in the business class lounge living the good life before being told that there were 2 no-shows so we could board the original flight.

Cambodia is the ultimate story of resilience: recovering from one of the most recent world genocides, you would expect to find excessive crime, rage, and poverty, but the people are amazingly kind, the crime rate is low, and although poverty is very real, you see far more non-profits working to help than you see homeless. Everything in Cambodia is remarkably cheap and operates in US dollars: $15 hotels, $3 entrees, $4 cab rides to the airport.

Everything we did was phenomenal. We rode bikes (again!) to Angkor Wat temples for sunset and then returned the next morning for sunrise. Although sunrises and sunsets can be anticlimactic, these were the most worthwhile and memorable of my life. At this hippie store in Charlottesville that I like, they talk about how you should wear stone every day as opposed to other materials like metal and plastic because stone carries energy. Being in these massive stone temples, I could feel that energy all around me, and wanted to harvest the feeling to take with me. Some of the temples have Buddhist origins and some are Hindu, and they’re all amazing. Our favorite was Ta Prohm, a temple still in partial ruins where trees merge with stone to create this hidden jungle temple feeling.

Also at the very top of my SAS experiences so far, we spent a day in this village on stilts. Ironically, we were also pretty ambivalent about whether to trek all the way out to see this and were so glad we made the decision to go. After an hour tuk tuk (Cambodia’s version of a rickshaw) ride, much of it over bumpy dirt roads, we took a small powerboat to the village of Phlong Phluk. In the town itself, we switched to a small canoe to navigate through the tighter areas. There are nearer villages to Siem Reap, but they are known to be much more touristy, and we decided that if we were going to see one, we wanted it to be a little more authentic. The village itself is literally an entire community on water with people boating to school, bathing under their houses, and shopping from a floating super market. Life is clearly simple, but everyone smiles and the children joyfully swim and canoe around as if to showcase further evidence that happiness can be found anywhere that the most basic needs are met.

Another highlight of our time in Cambodia was meeting up with people who work for a non-profit called ConCERT through a chain of connections and learning about their organization and Siem Reap at their office and over dinner and drinks. They were great contacts to make- really nice people in our age group who really care about Cambodia and are realistic about the work that they do. We had amazing food with them (as well as at every other meal we ate in Cambodia), and I am now in love with Cambodian Cuisine. It’s like Thai, but better. It has to catch on the United States.

Just when we thought that each activity was better than the last, we pushed our luck and decided to be altruistic (ha) and get a massage by the blind. Our guidebook sold it as a charitable way to enjoy the overabundance of cheap spa services in Cambodia because it provides jobs for blind people who would otherwise have to rely on begging. It was surely the most uncomfortable I ever been, and if Shira wasn’t laying 3 feet from me going through the same thing I wouldn’t have made it through to the end. It was definitely one of those so-awful-it’s-hilarious moments in life. Next time, we’ll just donate to a charity.

Each time I’ve sat down to write about Cambodia, I’ve struggled to do it justice and postponed the process, hoping that with time I’d be better able to articulate what made it so amazing. Sadly, even with time I feel like this is falling flat of describing the intangible quality that I loved so much there. I guess that feeling at Angkor Wat of wanting to capture and keep the warm energy coming from the stone is really the best summary of the whole town: I loved the energy of Siem Reap and wanted to hold onto it and take it with me.

Our two days in Vietnam (first and last day in port) were fun as well, but paled in comparison to Cambodia. Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) is busy, but not manic, mostly English-speaking, but you can still tell you’re in Asia, and modern, but still has some history. I had clothes made, as you’re supposed to in Vietnam, visited the war museum, and enjoyed good food and conversation with the people there. If we’d decided not to take that flight to Cambodia, I’m sure I’d have loved Vietnam as much as I have every other port, but it couldn’t hold a candle to our days in Siem Reap. I’m putting Ho Chi Minh City on my list of countries to return to some day- it deserves another chance for me to get to know it independently.

In between every port, SAS invites a lecturer and one or two students from the upcoming country to inform us about where we’re heading (aptly called interport lecturers/students). These visitors present several times before we arrive in port. I’m currently watching the Chinese interport lecturer tell about China’s place in the world economy and China’s perspectives on the rest of the world. He just talked at length (supported by graphs from studies) about world perspectives on the United States with the takeaway message that Bush administration policies made the Chinese and the rest of the world resentful of the US. He went on to be the 10th consecutive interport lecturer to say that this attitude is changing with Obama’s attempts to reach out. I know that I’m undeniably biased, but these ten lecturers spanning 3 continents are presenting totally independently of one another and all have found this important to note.

People often say “I don’t care what people think about me,” on a personal level, and I always think this is a sort of foolish statement. “Well, I care,” I think. Not that I live my life to fret about others’ opinions of me, but I think how you are perceived by the general population should matter. You can’t please everyone and some people are just contrary, but if general opinion of level-headed people is favorable, then you’re probably living your life well. I feel the same way about our country: how the world perceives us matters to me! It matters because I think it has much larger implications, and hearing that the world’s opinion is shifting (albeit slowly) in a positive direction warms my heart. To me, this is the change, the hope, that was promised. I hear a lot about how those were just words, but the world heard those words, too. Climbing off the soap box now and will try not to get back on- I just had to share my moment!