quick email update

Hello everyone!

I have a lot to say, but just don't feel like saying it yet. Just to let you all know, my email address back home is AVeinott@gmail.com . I'll post an update when I can collect my thoughts...

Amanda

Homecoming and Convocation Speech

Well, it's here. The morning of my arrival back home. I'm not sad yet. Just anxious. I know I'll be sad as I start seeing my friends leave the ship for the last time. They won't even look back. Everyone is excited to go home. Some, more so than others. Other emotions/feelings some are experiencing right now is apprehension, exhaustion, happiness, heartbreak, sadness, peace...it's a gauntlet of emotion right now. How am I feeling? Eager, anxious, hopeful, scared...that's just a few of them...

Last night was Convocation; a formal goodbye to everyone and a congratulations to the graduating seniors. I was chosen out of ten students to give a speech in front of the entire shipboard community. I will post my speech for you all to read. The minute I received an email from the administration saying that students may submit a speech to read at convocation, I jumped on the opportunity. I don't even like public speaking, but I had this urge to get up there in front of everyone and let them in on my thoughts and feelings. Thank you to Gretchen, and my mom, and Mrs. Sikanowicz for the quick tips and suggestions...they gave me that "bang" I needed. I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did when giving my speech...

-Amanda

Good evening, my fellow shipmates, professors, faculty, and staff:

Today is not only December 13^th, 2008, but it is the eve of our final port of call. Miami. To many of us, the United States is our home, but to some, it is a short layover before heading back to their home countries. It is the eve of our final goodbyes to our fellow shipmates who we have all grown close to over the last three and a half months. It is the eve of a brand new chapter in the book of our lives. It is the eve of the first day that we can all truly become the change that we want to see in this world.

Tomorrow we will hesitantly close one door, and open another. On August 29^th, our lives as we knew them ended as we boarded the ship for the very first time, and now life as we’ve known it over the past few months will be ending as we walk off the gangway for the very last time. To some, this may be one of the saddest nights that they can remember, and to others, this may be the happiest of nights because they know they will see their family, friends, and loved ones tomorrow for the first time in three months. There will undoubtedly be tears, as their have already been, when we say goodbye to people who we’ve grown close to and to friends who may very well be in our lives forever. We will shed happy tears as we remember all the indescribable things that we have done, places that we have visited, and world wonders that we have seen with our own two eyes. We will also shed tears of sadness as we realize that we will never again be able to repeat the mental, emotional, and physical journey we have just completed.

It is important for us to remember that although the door to this time in our lives is closing, it will never be bolted shut. We are allowed to revisit the memories that we have, the emotions that we have felt, and the questions we have asked ourselves over the course of this semester. We are allowed to bring all that we have learned with us on to the next stages of our lives, wherever this may be.

Although each and every one of us had a unique experience on Semester at Sea, we all have a lot in common. We’ve all circumnavigated the globe, survived a countless number of time changes, experienced life at sea, gained a greater appreciation for the world and all its inhabitants, realized that we have privileges and advantages that many people only dream of, and that we need to stop taking the littlest things in life for granted because we are not guaranteed another day here on Earth.

Whether you came on Semester at Sea to live life to the fullest, to escape a broken heart back home, to travel the world, or to simply prove to yourself that you can survive being away from home for three and a half months, you will now be going home a different person than you were that very first day back in August. You may not be able to describe what Semester at Sea was like to all the people who ask you “How was it?” and don’t feel like you are the only one. Every single one of us will be going through the same thing. Pictures, videos, and blogs will never be able to explain what it was like to see a starving woman laying in the train station in Delhi, almost certainly praying for death to come quickly, and not being able to do anything for her. Words won’t be able to describe what it was like to smell the Indian air as it wafted in through the gangway doors, or what it was like to climb to the top of a mountain in Lencois and feel as small as a single drop of water in the Pacific ocean, or to visit the War Remnants Museum in Saigon and feel so much emotion and pain that you became physically sick from anguish.

Although you know you are a different person than you were when you left, you may not be able to understand how. It may not become apparent to you in the first few days home, or the next few weeks, or even in the coming months, but I can guarantee that other people will notice. You will see things in a unique way, hear things that you were never aware of before, and think in a manner that may surprise you at first. Most of our friends and family will never be able to understand or appreciate the things that we do now, so we have to remember each other. Stay in touch with the friends you’ve made, call them when you need to talk about Semester at Sea because everyone else can’t take listening to your stories any more, or go visit them. A six-hour car-ride is nothing anymore…

Always remember the humility you felt while visiting the townships in South Africa, the anger you felt when learning the truth about the Viet Nam war, the happiness you felt when giving a notebook to an orphan in Cambodia, and the heartbreak you felt when learning of Kurt’s death. All these events have changed us. Never forget them. Remember…this isn’t the end, it’s only the beginning…Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of our lives, our chance to make a mark in this world…to give back for everything that has been given to us.

Thank you.

Pura Vida!

Pura Vida!! You’re probably wondering what this means and its literal translation is Pure Life and it’s meaning in English would be This is Living. It’s a ubiquitous term in Costa Rica that they use to describe life there. It’s a wonderful feeling to scream Pura Vida at the top of your lungs after busting out the other side of a class 4 rapid, slapping oar blades with the six other girls in your raft).

Well, my last port came and went and I am sad. I loved Costa Rica...by far in my overall top six places (in no particular order, they are: Viet Nam, South Africa, Cambodia, Costa Rica, and Brazil, and Namibia). Those of you who have been to Costa Rica before know that it is a place that you can easily fall in love with. The people are friendly, the weather is beautiful, the environment appears to be pristine, and it's a huge playground for outdoor junkies like me. In short, it's pretty much the perfect place :-)

We tendered the first day outside of Puntarenas (the name of the actual port is slipping my mind right now) because the port area of Puntarenas was full that day. Around 8pm that first night, the ship sailed a whole five nautical miles to Puntarenas. I was one of 30 people who went on an independent trip put together by Raphael and it was a great time. The first day, right after we tendered to shore, the thirty of us were picked up by Matt, Kristin, and Scott- the first two are the owners of Pecuare River Tours and Scott is an "intern". They're from the States, but have owned Pecuare River Tours for the last two years. If you’re planning on rafting in Costa Rica, I highly recommend using them. Not only were they extremely friendly, but their company is operated by American standards…they have full evacuation plans set up in case of an emergency, they are all fully trained in first aid and swift water rescue…etc etc etc. I never once questioned my safety with them.

We drove for about 45 minutes to a national park where we were going zip lining through the canopy. I’ve only zip lined once in my life before and it was a little rinky-dink zip line compared to these big boys. I was a little nervous when I climbed up the first tower and was hooked onto the zip line for the first time, but after soaring through the air for a good 35 or 40 seconds, I wasn’t nervous anymore. It’s all about trusting the harness and the rest of your equipment. I took video of a few of the runs I did so you guys can get a good feel of what it’s like to “fly” :-). There were probably about 8-10 lines total (I was too excited to remember to count) and there was one section with tandem lines so two people could “race” to the other side. It really came down to who the heavier person was because they tend to go faster.

After the regular zip lines, we all marched to the very top of the first tower that we started from (probably 75 feet?) and were strapped into full body harnesses. We were about to ride the “Superman” zip line! A 4500 foot long zip line that stretched over the canopy AND a river about three hundred feet below. We had to lay belly down on a padded table where three people and worked to secure you to the line. Picture a cow hooked into a harness, suspended from a helicopter…that’s basically what we looked like haha. Maybe not the cow part, but I’m sure that all helped you picture what we looked like! It took almost a full minute to get from one side of the gorge to the other and it literally felt like I was flying. There was one point where I saw my shadow hundreds of feet down and I was like “holy crap, that’s my shadow!”…It was exhilarating.

After the canopy tour, we all loaded back into the buses and headed toward San Jose and then toward Limon (on the Eastern Coast of Costa Rica on the Gulf). We ended up at this small American owned hotel where we had dinner and drinks. A good 90% of the people ended up getting plastered and were running around like lunatics (it felt like a bunch of third graders), but we had the hotel to ourselves so it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just annoying because the walls were paper-thin so the 10% of us who were actually trying to sleep and not be hung over the next morning for white water rafting, couldn’t. It quieted down eventually…

The next morning, we woke up at 7:30, had breakfast at eight, and were on the road right around nine. We drove another hour or so to the put-in site in the Sarapicqui River. We were originally supposed to raft the Pecuare but recent floods tore up the river and it wasn’t safe to go down it yet. I was fine with that…the Sarapiqui was mainly a class 3 run, but there were a couple rapids that were small class 4 rapids. It felt better than amazing to be back in a raft on the river…it had been way too long…

Our raft was the only one with all girls (we had Kristin as our guide…she’s basically who I want to be when I “grow up”) and we were also the only raft who didn’t have anyone fall out of the raft or have the raft flip. Not because we didn’t hit the same rapids as everyone else, but because we all actually listened to what our guide was saying. Kedren and me sat up front and set the pace for the rest of the group. I am getting excited just thinking about those four hours on the river! I can’t wait to get back there…

After rafting, we grabbed lunch at a restaurant that sat overlooking the same river we rafted down. I could definitely get used to Central American food…rice, beans, and lots of fresh fruit. Mmm mmm. Delicious. After lunch, we hopped back in the van and headed back toward Puntarenas. Three-quarters of the group were spending the night in Jaco, so Kristin was nice enough to have one bus go to Jaco and the other go back to Puntarenas. She didn’t have to do that, but that’s just how nice these people really were. I was part of the group that came back to Puntarenas…

The last day in Costa Rica, a few of us walked around Puntarenas and just wandered around the city for a while. The beaches right near the ship weren’t the nicest and it was extremely hot so we decided to grab a few milkshakes before getting back on the ship. I ended up buying a ticket to go horseback riding from a girl down my hall so I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and headed out a half hour later. Me and another girl, Amber, were the only two experienced riders there and I was very happy with their choice of horses for me. I called her “Butterfinger” because she was the same color as one. She had a wonderful temperament and she listened to every command I gave her. The terrain was extremely rocky and steep in some areas and I’m surprised those who had never ridden before didn’t fall off. Amber and I had a chance to gallop at one point and I hadn’t done that in years so my adrenaline was pumping. I forgot what it felt like to gallop…makes me want to become a jockey...

It was bittersweet pulling up to the port. It was the last time I would be walking up the gangway on this voyage…I also knew that I only had a handful of days left before I would be home. I was way more excited than I was sad…I am ready to be home…

Well, this was my last “official” blog post correlating to a port I was in. I’ll be posting more in the next couple of days about random things…thoughts, feelings, emotions…that kind of stuff. Stay tuned…

-Amanda

Answers to a few soon-to-be voyagers questions...

Anna-Kate, this post is for you and for all the other soon-to-be-SASers…

 

FOOD:

If you’re a picky eater (I’m not, but there are plenty of people who are), you’re likely to lose weight on this trip…the food on board isn’t the tastiest, but there is always something to eat…especially if you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  If you're not a picky eater, you will likely gain weight.  Some people gained just a couple pounds and others put on upwards of 25lbs (trust me, I'm not making that up!).  You’re always going to run into those people who complain about the food at every single meal, but I always found something at lunch and dinner that satisfied my hunger.  And if not, there’s always the Deck 7 pool bar.  Grab a burger or a pizza.  They’re really good but you can rack up a hefty bill in no time.  Breakfast will soon become your best friend.  There’s always fresh fruit, yogurt, English muffins, minibagels, different types of cereals (if you’re used to the “sugary stuff” like cinnamon toast crunch or frosted flakes, bring your own.  They have healthy kinds like All-Bran, unfrosted Mini Wheats, sometimes granola, and Raison Bran).

 

You need to try all different types of foods in each of the countries you visit.  Yes, you will probably get TD (travelers diarrhea) at least once and it’s definitely not fun but it’s so worth all the amazing new foods that you get to try.  I just saw that your voyage goes to Europe instead of Africa and that’s definitely a bummer food-wise.  You won’t get to taste game meats like zebra, ostrich, and springbok (I’m assuming you’re not a vegetarian…sorry if you are!).  I personally didn’t care too much for any of the above meats I just mentioned, but at least I can tell people that I’ve tried them!

 

A lot of people stocked up on food items in the first port of call (in your case, Cadiz, Spain) and I would suggest grabbing even a few things like oatmeal, maybe a box of cereal or two, some snack type foods if you like that kind of stuff, and even some trail mix (or make your own).  I wouldn’t suggest bringing a bunch of food with you to the Bahamas…luggage space is a very precious commodity!  Trust me.

 

CLOTHES

There are probably tons of packing lists that you’ve seen on Facebook groups and other people’s blog postings.  I’ll probably make one myself eventually, but for now I’ll tell you the basics.  Pack at least 3 weeks worth of underwear, a weeks worth of socks, a bunch of t-shirts that you won’t mind throwing away at the end of the trip, a few pair of “comfy shorts”, a couple pairs of jeans, a few sundresses (if you’re the sundress wearing type, bring a few extra), a pair of black and brown flip flops, one nice dress for the Ambassadors Ball (I wouldn’t count on getting one made in Viet Nam…a lot of people were very unhappy with their dresses that they had made and other people just didn’t have the time to get them), hiking clothes (very important if you’re the outdoorsy type), a pair of sneakers for the gym and a pair of trail sneakers for outdoor adventures.  I know I’ve probably missed quite a few things, but like I said, I’ll make a more detailed list when I have time.  The main thing that I wish I had brought more of were sundresses that I could just roll into a ball and throw into my bag.  Oh…and SKIRTS and are past your knee…very important for Asia.

 

PORTS

Your first four ports of call (Spain, Italy, Turkey, and Egypt) are foreign to me.  I’ve never been there so you’ll be on your own so to speak there.  Also, our voyage didn’t go to Thailand or to Guatemala so again, I can’t help you out there.  Sorry!  What I can help you with is India, Viet Nam, China, and Japan.  I would totally recommend doing India, Viet Nam, and Japan independently.  I can talk to you more on an individual basis if you want (send me an email at alveinott@semesteratsea.net or to aveinott@gmail.com after December 14^th).  I would highly (I can’t stress this enough) recommend doing Semester at Seas trip to Cambodia (Phnom Phen and Ankgor Wat).  It was one of the best things I did all semester.  You take this trip while in Viet Nam.  China you can for sure do independently, but I would suggest taking the SAS Beijing/Xi’an trip (if they offer it).  You get to climb the Great Wall, see Beijing, and see the Terracotta Army in Xi’An among other things.

 

If you have the same mindset as I do, you won’t be one of “those people” who give Semester at Sea a bad rep while in port.  “Those people” or the “two percent” as we liked to refer to them as this semester, are the hard-core party animals that black out, hook up with random locals all the time, puke their brains out as they try to walk up the gangway, and then have almost every privilege taken away from them because they chose to act in an immature fashion.  Yes, I went out a couple of nights in most ports, but I also was smart about it.  Go out in groups of people, don’t run off with locals (quite a few people did this), carry the smallest amount of stuff with you when in port, and just be smart.  It’s as simple as that.

Like I said, if you want more detailed information or help planning any independent trips, I can definitely help you out and answer any questions you may have.  I'll try to work on some further info, but don't hesitate to email me with any questions (even if you think they're silly!  I had tons and tons of those!)...

 

 

India blog...finally

So, it’s December 6^th, almost two months after I was in India…and I still have more of my India blog to write.  I decided since I want to procrastinate getting started on my studying, this is something that can help me achieve my goal.  The next paragraph was where I started my re-write…

 

            I’ve decided to take some time before our Viet Nam logistical pre-port tonight to re-write my India blog.  I wish my flash drive hadn’t decided to go haywire on me and that I still had the five pages that I wrote already, but such is life.  There are far greater things that I should be worrying about.  Therefore, I’ll just suck it up and get to writing…

            Going into India, I knew that I would encounter many things that I wouldn’t be prepared for.  Many people told me that a person could try as hard as they’d like to prepare themselves for how India would be but there would come a point where preparation can’t protect you from a certain element of culture shock.  Therefore, I mentally prepared myself for culture shock rather than preparing myself for how I thought India would be.  I found that this idea turned out to be far more helpful than the other option.  Since I was mentally ready to encounter a culture completely foreign to my own I was able to stop comparing what I thought India would be like to what India actually was and just accept it.  I feel like too many students went into India thinking that they were going to see, smell, taste, and hear certain things.  That’s like memorizing an entire textbook word for word in preparation for a test rather than reading between the lines and then going into it and finding out that the test was completely different than what you studied for.  To follow that analogy, I opened up the textbook, read what I thought was important, read between the lines, closed the book and went into the test without any preconceived ideas and was happy to find out that the test wasn’t as hard as other people made it out to be.  Now, in non-analogous terms, I learned the most important things that I needed to, listened to the advice of others who had been to India (thanks, Gretchen!), decided to go in without any defined idea of what I thought I could expect, and then walked off the ship ready to soak it all in.

            The minute I placed both feet on the ground in India, I not only felt like I was in a completely different world, but I knew I was in a completely different world.  The immediate port area felt very similar to Namibia as well as the fifteen-minute walk to the port entrance, but other than that, there were absolutely no similarities between India and anywhere else I have been…ever.  I knew it would be hot but it was hotter and more humid than I have felt before.  I knew it would smell in certain areas but I smelled odors I’d like to never smell again.  I knew I would see poverty but I saw poverty on a scale that I wasn’t aware even existed in our world today.  I knew I would taste food unfamiliar to my palate and it was some of the best food I’ve ever had.  I knew I would hear the honking of horns from rickshaws but I never knew I would hear the begging of a woman with a one week old baby and then have my heart break because I had to tell her that I had no money left after spending my last dime on a stupid souvenir.  What I didn’t know is that I was capable of feeling so much anger, so much sadness, so much compassion, so much helplessness, and so much shame all at one time.  I felt anger towards every single government in the world for not doing enough to help fight poverty and put an end to food and water shortages; I felt sadness every time a beggar came up to me and asked for money and then had to politely say no because I’d already given all my available change away; I felt compassion not only for what I could give to those in need but I felt it when other members of my group gave away all they could as well; I felt helpless when I was surrounded by over a dozen street children begging for money, for food, for anything they could possibly re-sell to make money and I had absolutely nothing to give but some words of hope, a few smiles, and the touch of my hand upon a newborn babies cheek; I felt shame while walking through the streets of Agra, and Delhi, and Varanasi with my expensive camera equipment, relatively new clothes, and money (or credit cards) readily available to purchase my next meal.

            I wanted to do more for them than I had the means to do and that upset me.  One billion people live in India.  Hundreds of millions of people live in conditions that those of you who are reading this right now would scoff over.  They live in buildings without roofs, sleep on dirt floors that are insect and pest infested, or they sleep out on the streets lined up over a hundred people long right besides sleeping cows, dogs, and goats.  I cried when I saw this.  It broke my heart to see people living this way.  I realized that I never judged these people the way that I am sure many of my peers did.  Why should they be judged?  They have absolutely nothing but the torn and tattered shirt and pants that are on their backs and maybe a pair of shoes if they are lucky.  How can you judge another human being that has nothing?  I heard many people saying, “Why don’t they just go out and get a job?”, “Why don’t they do this or that?”  I can’t tell you how much these remarks angered me.  Quite honestly, I lost respect for quite a few of my peers over the course of five days.  The entire reason why the people who live on the street live on the street is that India has a caste system that has yet to be broken down by modern society.  They are Untouchables or Dalits as they are more formally known.  If their parents were Untouchables than they became Untouchables by default.  There are very few instances where a person has moved up in the caste system from being a Dalit.  They are often seen by other Indians as nothing more than wasted space.

            The concept of one human looking down so harshly upon another human is something that I am unable to fully comprehend.  I’m not sure if it’s because I’m the type of person who appreciates every human for being a living, breathing, individual or if it’s because I’ve grown up in a society where even those who are looked down upon by other individuals, for whatever reason, are still considered more than just wasted space (although I’m sure there are bigots out there who believe otherwise).

            On my five-day independent trip (props to Johnny Hunter…great job planning everything) I visited three large cities: Agra, Varanasi, and Delhi (both New and Old).  We flew from Chennai to New Delhi on the first day and then immediately hopped on a charter bus from New Delhi to Agra.  I think we spent somewhere around 10 hours traveling that day.  We arrived at the hotel around three in the morning and had to be up for breakfast at 8:30 and out the door at 10.  None of us complained though because we were going to the Taj Mahal later on that morning.  Who could complain about anything they day they go to see the Taj?

            I thought I would be amazed by the Taj Mahal but I was wrong.  I was absolutely blown away.  I still can’t believe that I saw it with my own two eyes and touched it with my own two hands and walked inside with my own two feet.  The shear beauty and size of the structure is monumental.  It was also a unique experience in that I was photographed more by people than I photographed my surroundings.  Everywhere I looked, people had their cameras pointing at me, clicking away.  Have they never seen blonde hair before?  I had quite a few men come up to me and say “picture for memory?” and they would stand next to me, have their friend take the picture, and then scatter away.  Very amusing.  I could have been like some and simply blown these people off, but what did I have to lose?  A small act like this that puts a smile on people’s faces is worth the ten minutes of time that it took out of my day.

 

 

This is where I left off writing my blog so please bear with me when I try to remember some details from over two months ago…

 

            I couldn’t tell you for the life of me what we did after the Taj Mahal but that night we took our first of two overnight sleep trains to Varanasi.  You have not lived until you “sleep” on a sleep-car train…trust me.  Forty-seven American students invaded a train from Agra to Varanasi and all went pretty smoothly…Yes, there were a few mishaps like one kid getting so belligerently drunk that he puked his brains out in a disgusting bathroom for hours, another kid having to pay a fine to a train official because he was caught drinking (it’s illegal to drink on trains in India…but because we’re American, they took advantage of the kid and made him pay an outrageous fee or else he would be kicked off the train [we later learned that this was complete BS and that he wouldn’t have been kicked off the train so basically he was scammed]), another person threw up in the bathroom because she unfortunately came down with motion sickness, two girls had their purses stolen, and I was fortunately able to scare off a would-be thief in the middle of the night.  It was a pretty eventful 12 hours.

            Varanasi is a place that I will never forget.  I will also never be able to explain to you through words, or pictures, or video what exactly it was like.  Most of us decided to take a boat ride down the Ganges River and that was an eye-opening experience.  Fortunately, we didn’t see body of a dead person floating in the river, but there were dead animals floating right past where people were bathing.  Up river, people would wash their cows that were covered in only god knows what and then there were more people bathing downriver.  I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.  Sanitation doesn’t even cross the minds of people who can’t afford clean water to bathe in.  The Ganges River is their sacred water source.  On its banks are where funeral pyres are located, burning the bodies of the dead morning, noon, and night.  I saw a few different bodies being cremated and at first I was very uncomfortable seeing this.  Then, as I pushed through my cultural ignorance, I realized that this was the cheapest, most sanitary, and quickest way to dispose of a body.  With a billion people in the country, a lot of people die every day; therefore, the need to cremate bodies never ceases.

            We didn’t have very much time to spend near the Ganges River as our tour guides rushed us off to lunch in order to stay on schedule.  I do wish we had more time to explore the city.  It would have been nice to wander through some of the streets and allow my senses to take in as much as they could handle.  Again, I unfortunately forget what we did for the rest of that afternoon, but later in the evening we made our way to the train station to catch another overnight sleeper-car train to Delhi.

            Let me tell you a little bit about the train stations…So, picture a New York City subway station…complete with rats and trash.  Now, multiply that a few times.  That is what the train stations looked like (more or less).  The smell of urine fogged the air, and seeing a man urinating on a random wall was not uncommon.  I made sure to sit on the waterproof rain cover of my backpack when I sat down anywhere, since I never really had an idea as to what it was exactly that I was sitting on.  Again, I saw hundreds of homeless people laying on the walkways on the train station, laying on shredded pieces of material that they would use as a mattress.  Many people had tin cans with them.  Not for collecting money, but for holding water.  Where this water came from was a mystery, but I can only imagine what it would do to my stomach. 

            The people living at the train stations still haunt my memory to this day.  One woman in particular surfaces every now and again and I wonder if she is still alive.  She was probably no older than forty but looked as if she was close to seventy years old.  I had never before seen what a starving person looked like in person.  She didn’t move because she couldn’t.  She didn’t have an ounce of fat, let alone muscle, on her body.  She just laid there, in an almost comatose state, her eyes blinking every few seconds.  I can remember the clothes that she had on…mere pieces of tattered cotton fabric that were stained brownish green with months, if not years, of wear.  Her protruding ribs would rise, only slightly, every couple of seconds, to bring a shallow breath of air into her lungs.  I can only imagine that with every blink of her eyes or every breath she took, she wished for death to come, for the bright lights of the other side to engulf her and put her out of her misery.

            Even if I had the means to provide her with food for the rest of her life, I am sad to say that I think it would be too late.  She was to the point of starvation that makes me believe that she could not have been nursed back to health.  This is just one example of what hundreds of thousands of people go through on a daily basis in India.  Just writing about my memory of that woman brings emotions back that I haven’t felt again since that day…

            The second night on the train wasn’t as eventful as the first night and I remember sleeping pretty well.  The entire experience was slightly unusual, but I adapted pretty quickly.  I chose to sleep on the top bunk (there were three bunks stacked on top of each other) and I’m not sure if this was the right choice because I hit my head on more than one occasion on the ceiling.  However, I felt safe and secure and out of harms way so high up.  That still didn’t keep me from sleeping with my pack and my camera behind my head, taking up a foot of potential room to stretch out.  I didn’t complain though…how could I after seeing people sleep on concrete?

            Our last full day was spent exploring Delhi on our own.  My friend Eilis and I broke away from the group around noon and decided to see and do as much as we could before nightfall.  We hopped in a rickshaw, went to an underground market (most westerners would probably have avoided this but we decided to be adventurous), walked around the main parts of New Delhi, and then hopped back in a rickshaw and hired the driver for three hours to give us a tour of Delhi, local style.  He took us to many different places, most notably Gandhi’s Tomb.  There were very few times over the past three months where I’ve felt so at peace.  There’s something to be said about visiting the tomb one of histories greatest preachers of peace.  Tranquility flooded the air and it felt like any worries I had or any burdens I carried were instantly replaced with harmony and serenity.

            The next morning, we were out of our hotel by 4am to make sure we were made our flight back to Chennai on time.  Overall, traveling with 45+ college kids went remarkably well and although we encountered a few mishaps along the way, we all had a great time.  A day after arriving back on the ship, I ended up coming down with a bad cause of traveler’s diarrhea, but it hardly phased me.  I was happy, otherwise healthy, and on my way to Malaysia…