So far, everything on the trip has been great for Julia. She described Havana as a unique city with no modern structures. The housing was decrepit and over inhabited but decorated and colorful. The people were very welcoming and the country side beautiful (she went to Pinar del Rio). As far as Fidel Castro- he spoke for 4 hours about "Gods knows what" but threw a great party!
In Brazil, she went to Lencois which she said was pretty much like being in paradise. One of our family's favorite places we have traveled to was Cornwall, England, and she ranked it higher than that!
She described the landscape of South Africa as beautiful and being such an awesome place (seem to hear that expression a lot!). She went to Kagga Kamma, participated in Operation Hunger and hiked Table Mountain. She had mentioned a few times how she would love to take us to all the places she has visited- her Dad is an avid cyclist and said he would love biking through the wine lands in SA. I love the optimism of the kids. I hope they all become successful and can treat us parents to a trip around the world with them!
The only thing I haven't seen mentioned about ship life is the "creaking noises" the ship makes and how casual everything is - some students just wear their bathing suits all day - even to class. She loves her professors- esp. Marina Roseman (music) and Gary Ferrano (anthropology).
Her latest Email from Saturday mentioned how her friend, Jimale, and others were going to get up early to drum while the ship pulls into port and she is becoming quite a drummer herself. She was also impressed with the Black History presentation that evening by the students.
(She got my package in SA the same day I got her postcard from Cuba!)
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Tanzania
AFFFRRRRRIIIICCCCCCAAAAAA! Is where I am right now.
Okay, I want to let you know that I am frustrated right now because I actually already wrote a very extensive e-mail, but as soon as I pressed send�poof�my connection was gone. I tried again at the internet caf�, but I'm now actually sending this from the boat ..long story..! Anyway, Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania and Nairobi, Kenya are so unlike any place I have ever been. They are extremely poor countries with kids standing in the middle of the streets selling soap and other necessary items, street stands set up that sell everyday clothes as if they were malls, and thousands of the little public buses/vans - Dala Dalas, zooming down the streets. Right now, however, I will speak of ship life.
Right before we left South Africa, a township choir came on board and gave us an amazing performance. Since I am a member of the choir, I got to sing (and dance) the last song with them. The sea was extremely rough for the first couple days after South Africa and me and about 90% of the ship was feeling quite sick. Luckily, my mom sent me a package in South Africa that included SEA BANDS!!! On the third day at sea, we had the un-Olympics, which is a day full of events in which we competed to see which deck would get off the ship first. I did- name that tune and mashed potato sculpture/eating. We made a lovely Taj Mahal and I got sick from eating all the potatoes, but alas, the yellow sea (my deck) came in about last place.
AFRICA!! As we pulled into port a few friends and I got out the ships AWESOME drums and drummed while we pulled in. I'm becoming quite the drummer and I think I'll take Swahili next semester (is that better than Chinese, Mom and Dad?) Shortly after arrival, I departed to the airport for my flight to Nairobi, Kenya. In Nairobi, we had a short tour of the bustling city before we arrived at our hotel then departed for dinner at Carnivore. Carnivore is a world famous restaurant that is basically the African equivalent of the Hard Rock Caf�. They served us chicken, pork sausages, beef, IMPALA meatballs, HARTEBEEST, ZEBRA, WILDEBEEST, OSTRICH and here is the best part- they would come around and carve it off of swords onto our plates. Everything was quite good, but it sure was a lot of flesh.
The next morning, we departed very early for the Maasai Mara game reserve. After seeing the Great Rift Valley, several animals, Maasai Men and their cattle and traveling for five hours on a very bumpy, narrow road, we arrive at the Mara Sopa Lodge. With a swimming pool, tea and coffee at all times, quaint little huts with huge beds and showers, we were as far from "roughing it" as we could be, which of course is good and bad. In the afternoon, we went on our first game drive in vans that had roofs that lifted up so we could take pictures and get better views of the animals. Animals we saw include: impala, gazelle, wildebeest, hartebeest, giraffes, lions, elephants, (babies included!) After the buffet dinner (in one of the poorest countries in the world??) we enjoyed a performance by the Maasai dancers.
The next day, a few kids went on a hot air balloon while I went on a game drive where I saw a bunch of the same animals and yesterday. The highlight of this day, however, was the visit to the Maasai village. The Maasai are pastoral people whose economy is almost completely based on cattle. There are about 1.1 million Maasai in Kenya and Tanzania , but the ones we visited with are hired by the tourist agency. Even so, they try to maintain their traditional ways of life to the best of their ability even though they are being forced off their land because their cattle get in the way of all the animals and the Safari business would go down the tubes. They are really in a difficult situation as they no longer have enough land to maintain their way of life, but there really is no place for them in the very slowly developing countries of Tanzania and Kenya. Most of them are very educated, speaking three or four languages.
The village consisted of a fence made of sticks to keep out predators and keep cattle in and about 10 houses about six feet tall made out of cow dung. When we arrived, the women and girls were performing a dance followed by the men. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how high they could jump. After the dances, a Maasai man took a few of us into his home, which had several rooms and a kitchen. They keep cattle for a living, but they very rarely eat beef, usually subsisting on the milk and blood. This man offered me some milk, and I drank it, I'm still alive, so I don�t regret it! Then they tried to sell us all their crafts, which is the time when people start getting out their socks, t-shirts, pens, an other stuff they brought to barter.
The next morning we left VERY early and had a similar ride back except this time we got to see baboons, which pleased me greatly. Oh, by the way, the climate was so wonderful in Kenya. It's at a high altitude so it was nice and cool compared to the intense heat of the cities (I'm sorry�I know you have like 7583957 inches of snow) . The flight back was hot and bumpy and made me sick. When I got back, I wasn't really in the mood to walk around and explore so I just went to an internet caf� and wrote a wonderful e-mail and then lost it�grrr. That evening, I showered during the specified hours (our water was rationed) and then ate dinner at an Indian Chinese Restaurant with a few friend and our videographer, who is a really cool guy. An attack on four crew members had us pretty freaked out about being in the city at night so SAS ran a shuttle to downtown and back and recommended a 11:00 curfew.
Today, my last day, I went to the national museum, which was small and simple but housed some amazing artifacts that dealt with human evolution (my anthropology dork lights were going off like crazy). A student from the University of Dar es Salaam accompanied us and gave me some Swahili R&B recommendations. After the museum, I basically explored the super busy city with two friends by walking in the heat. In our attempt to find the local market, we were usually directed to the shop rite grocery store. Eventually, we took a taxi to a tourist market that sold ebony carvings and jewelry. It was actually a lot of fun talking to the locals for extensive amounts of time while trying to knock the prices down.
I came back to the ship completely exhausted and overheated from walking around in jeans and a conservative shirt (no women in Dar show their legs past the knee or their shoulders) My awesome music professor arranged a performance by a popular "ngoma" group in Tanzania. There were three guys who played about 11 drums simultaneously and two girls that danced and sang. It was awesome and the SAS "drumming circle" felt inspired so we went to work for a few hours as we left Tanzania�.Now I'm going to sleep so I can go to core tomorrow at 9:20�yes..(INDIA IS COMING UP AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)
Love,
Julia
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India
Dearly Beloved,
Before going to India I was told by various friends and faculty members the following things, India is the most intimidating port on the SAS itinerary, India will assault your senses, and India will chew you up, spit you back out and run you over. After spending five days in the hot sun, humidity, packed humanity of Chennai and Madurai I can certainly attest to these statements, but at the same time tell you that I cherished every single second of my stay. I�m actually sending this e-mail from the ship from a friend�s lap top rather than a caf� in the city. We actually have a day off, or as we call it a �TBA day� to recover before classes resume.
When we got to Chennai (previously Madras) it took about five hours of stress before we were cleared by the Indian officials to get off the ship. As what seems to be my style, my first view of Chennai was from a bus en route to an SAS program. I was required to go to the working women�s forum for my anthropology class and enjoyed the experience regardless. The forum helps uneducated women to find and keep jobs while teaching them about their roles as women in a changing Indian society. The meeting was conducted like a conversation where we were given a brief introduction about the forum and then asked questions. There were about forty Indian women who all wanted to tell their stories in relation to our questions. Some spoke about how their husbands and mother-in-laws forbid them from leaving their homes while others prided themselves on their single status.
That evening I started my Indian adventure with my friends Betsy and Joel. We decided to take a 12 hour night train to the small Indian city (1.3 million people) Madurai, which contained the Meenakshi temple, which is a huge active Hindu temple about this size of a medium sized college campus. We decided that we would spring for first class tickets (about 500 rupees or 10 dollars). First class in India, my friends, is about 758th class in the United States, which of course made it all the more fun. Private by no means, the narrow short beds folded down from the walls and were made of the same material that plastic cushion that restaurant booths are made from. There was one bathroom for the fifty people or so in our car, which of course was just a squatting hole. At that point I decided I liked the idea of holes in the ground. It much easier to squat over those than a toilet.
After about 11 hours and a decent night�s sleep we arrived in Maduari at 5 am. As we walked through the station and then outside, we passed people sleeping on the ground, covering all the free space as if they were washed up on the beach. We chose an auto rickshaw driver from the 300 trying to get our business and had him take us to a nice hotel to eat breakfast, clean up and start our day. I spent a lot of time in India traveling in the dirt cheap auto rickshaws which are essentially like dirty fast golf carts that will take you just about anywhere a taxi can. At five in the morning the streets of Madurai were packed with not only people, but with cows and hogs eating piles of trash.
After consulting our Lonely Planet Book at breakfast, we had our rickshaw driver take us to Meenakshi. We had to take our shoes off about a block from the entrance to the magnificent temple and walk barefoot over who knows what in the street and then for a few hours in the temple the size of a small town. The temple was positively bustling with activity as music blared from speakers, Hindus recited prayers and practiced rituals in several different locations, guides who spoke no English tried to escort us around for �only 100 rupees Madame!,� men came through playing drums and store keepers tried to sell us bangles and postcards. The mixture of incense and flowers gave the temple a foreign but wonderful aroma. There were elephants standing as still as statues who would take your money with their trunks and then pat you on the head as a blessing. The temple architecture consisted of towers completely covered by beautifully colored intricately carved Hindu figures.
We stayed for about three hours just walking around and observing everything going on, but I think I could have spent the whole day there. Madurai is a city known for its tailors who had absolutely no problem finding us three. I had a silk Indian outfit made for me and a silk skirt for a semi-reasonable Indian price, insanely reasonable U.S.A price. WE had a REAL rickshaw driver (a guy pulling us in a shaky cart on this bicycle) to the Gandhi museum, which housed Gandhi�s glasses and some of his clothes along with a very visual retelling of the Indian struggle for independence from Britain. For lunch we had the common dish of South India, the Thali, which was served on a banana leaf. It consists of two Dals (which I suppose are kinda like hollow tortillas only fried and smaller). You eat them with about seven different sauces which all had names and very unique spicy flavors. After the bread was gone they brought out rice to finish up the sauces. Of course we ate every bit of it, including the rice, with our hands. You won�t find silverware in India unless you are in a hotel or restaurant that hosts a lot of Westerners. It�s just one of the infinite cultural differences.
For the rest of the day we just walked around and explored on foot checking out the local stores and food stands while being stared at the entire time. The stares were of curiosity and were by no means threatening. I must have had at least 15 good conversations that day that started out with an Indian approaching me saying nothing more than �where from?�
After an exhausting, enlightening day I slept quite well on the train ride home. As soon as I returned, I cleaned up as best I could with no water (remember rationing?) and grabbed a toothbrush and film and left for my homestay and college visit. Sindhi college is a school that focuses on computer science. The college was incredibly simple with no more than desks and a chalk board in the classrooms. There was a room with about 20 computers for the entire student body. Considering that the majority of American companies have their back rooms in South India because of their technological abilities in regards to computers, it gave me an idea of what is really important in the learning process.
Bala, our host picked up me and three other SAS girls and we departed for his home. It was located about an hour from the harbor in a clean upper middle class neighborhood. Bala was a very well educated lawyer with a great high-pitched laugh who conducted classes in his home on Gandhian Thought and Sanskrit. He lived with his mother (as most Indian men do) and Aunt; two lovely older women who would not stop feeding us� tea, pomegranate, soda, homemade crackers.. all right after lunch. We sat in his Aunt�s bedroom for several hours talking and then singing. I told them I study music and they demanded a song. In return, Bala�s mother sang Carnatic (classical Indian music of the South) melodies. I pulled out some more show tunes, the other girls sang some spirituals, the national anthem and the women continued to sing for us for the next hour. At the same time visitors would constantly pop in to meet us without warning so that eventually there was about 20 people sitting in the �bedroom living room� with us. I have been studying Indian history, the caste system and Hinduism in one of my classes on the ship and the conversation I had with the Hindu next door made me understand Hinduism and Indian society 4000 times more than I did reading books and articles and listen to lectures. We visited another house were Nan�.(I can�t remember his name� I have it written down) played some interesting fusion music for us and a little girl performed a dance and then invited us to dance with her. We were then taken to a women�s house who made Saris (the outfit that every single women regardless or class wears) and sold them to us for REAL prices rather than the hundreds of dollars some kids were paying in the tourist shops. I got a beautiful purple one that has hand stitched flowers on it. For dinner we were taken to another house where we were served thalis once again.
After dinner and a great evening where we met so many people who just wanted to share everything they knew with us we retreated to another women�s home to sleep. I�m going to have to be honest and say that it was by far the most miserable night�s sleep of my life (I�m still suffering). It was raining and the power went out (it does that everywhere all the time in India) so we didn�t have any fans. As I mentioned before, I was in a hurry getting to my home stay trip and neglected to pack my bug spray. I laid in bed sweating everywhere possible and feeling bugs crawling all over my body and buzzing in my ears. Somehow I fell asleep and when I woke up I had hundreds of little red bumps on my legs, stomach, arms and neck, which, with all the medical staff on the ship, I�m trying to figure out why� Our best guesses are either fleas or chigger bugs. My roommate Jill woke up with bumps today and I�m continuing to get new ones so we are wearing bug spray and getting the room fumigated ASAP. So I suppose I get India a little longer than most (hey� at least I don�t have diarrhea.. or Delhi Belly).
The rest of my fourth day was basically the shopping and a movie day� an Indian movie that is. It was in Tamil so I have no idea what the title even was, but it was a really cool experience. India produces a ton more movies than Hollywood and almost all of them are like huge extended music videos with blatant acting and musical numbers.
On the last day I actually missed the trip I was supposed to go on due to a cold and lack of sleep, but I looked at is as an opportunity to visit Mother Teresa�s missionaries of charity orphanage. It was such an eye opening depressing experience that I don�t think my writing abilities can respect it. All of the orphanages function solely on donation and never turn a child away. The babies are usually adopted, but all the other children had physical or mental disabilities and unless someone is kind enough to dedicate his or her life to taking care of one of them, they will be there for life. Many times Semester at Sea offers programs where we go to poor areas and schools to play with children and it�s always sad, but at the same time a lot of fun. Well it�s quite difficult to run around and chase kids that can�t move, speak or even express themselves in a way we can understand at all. It�s so difficult to sit next to a five year old child in a crib hold his hand and talk or sing to him and receive absolutely no recognition. There were some children of all ages in better shape who we could make connections with and would smile at the slightest things. All I can do is hope that me and the rest of the Semester at Sea students that visited the orphanages gave enough love to brighten the days of those children. I hope to keep the memory with me to encourage me and others to visit similar places at home who need our help just as much as the one in Chennai.
Well, it seems as though I have written significantly more than normal and I still feel like I have barely expressed how much I have taken from my experiences in India. The poverty is completely in your face as soon as we walked out of the gated harbor and children would follow you around for at least a mile. My friends Gabe and Jonathan and I tried to buy shoes for some of the kids, but we found it impossible to go anywhere without being followed or hung on to by at least 10 people� It�s the most frustrating thing in the world to want to help people who have nothing, but to be unable to do so even when I have so much to give� India.. a land of contrasts. If you want to come to India with me when I go back, let me know sometime� for now I�m going to do some homework and try not to scratch my legs.
Love
Julia
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Konichiwa!
I'm not sure how word travels back in the States or how many of you know my itinerary, but this e-mail should have been about Vietnam and the first half of Hong Kong/China. Unfortunately, however, that crazy Asian pneumonia, SARS, prevented us from going there. After a grueling 13 (that's seven unplanned extra days) at sea, we docked in Nagasaki, Japan. We'll be in Korea the day after tomorrow (April 7th-11th) and then back to Japan where we will dock in Osaka (April 14th-18th). Now, I know this is old news for many of you so forgive me for reiterating, however, I do have some brand new news that only my parents might, and I emphasize "might" know because they check the website. TWO NEW PORTS! Seward, Alaska, and Victoria Island, British Columbia to put our arrival date in Seattle back to May 6th. Not exactly Vietnam and China, but better than going straight home. However, I now need to purchase some super expensive Japanese winter clothes.
We arrived in Japan on a wet, cold, gray rainy day, which was perfectly fine considering that I would have been almost as excited to get off the boat at a truck stop on the highway. Fortunately, I was in Nagasaki and not exit 26 off on I 81! Since we found out that Nagasaki would be our port of call only three or four days prior to our arrival, no one really had any ideas about what to do or any trips to go on. A perfect situation for exploring with no destinations. It's a relatively small city of about 400,000 people that can be walked with a little effort and expectations for getting lost. It's surrounded by mountains on three sides and can be quite hilly. As expected, everything was as modern as it could be, but in a unique Japanese way. The homes were beautiful and new, but all were of modest size and had the same ornate dark roofs and glass or paneled sliding doors.
After about 45 minutes of walking, one of the most pronounced differences between American and Japanese cultures hit me. All around us we saw people, stores, restaurants, and activity, yet it was as if someone pressed mute. The sounds were scattered and subtle, certainly not matching the scene, giving me an almost eerie feeling. I was told in several classes on the ship that the Japanese value silence to a greater extent than we do, but I had no idea it would be that obvious. In addition to the quietness, Nagasaki is the most clean, neat, precise city I have ever been to. There were many streets set up so perfectly that I had to constantly remind myself that I was outside. Cars were never seen on many streets and when they were seen, the streets were paved so perfectly and the exhausts were so quiet that cars were barely noticeable.
These observations are examples of Japanese culture and the high value it places on quietness and presentation, which can also be seen while watching the actions and behaviors of locals. Not a single person walked across a street before he or she had a green light, let alone avoiding cross walks. Taxi drivers and gas station attendants wore impressive uniforms including white gloves and when I bought postcards they were wrapped up before being gently placed in a flower patterned paper bag. The bathrooms themselves were amazing. Heated toilet seats, devices to make noise so no one else can hear you doing your business, mechanized doors, and, by golly, I think the world would end if a sink had a knob instead of an automatic sensor. When we took a train back to the boat (fondly referred to as the "great white mother" when returning from trips), not a single person spoke and when a girl's cell phone rang, she shyly answered the call with a whisper. My friend, Jonathan, and I had a running joke for when we felt too loud�SHHHHHHH Japanese voices, please!
Although walking around Nagasaki was incredibly enjoyable, we didn't come upon any identifiable landmarks until late afternoon. Although the Japanese people were extremely welcoming and accommodating, the vast majority do not speak English (the fewest "English Speakers" out of all the ports we have been to). Most of the signs, maps, and other ways to identify locations are written with characters (This certainly makes eating out a new experience.). After coming across a lovely little zoo, we ran into the Suwa Shrine, which is a famous Shinto Shrine in Nagasaki. Unfortunately, I'm not too knowledgeable regarding Shinto, but what I know is that it's a traditional Japanese religion, still practiced, that heavily incorporates nature. Shrines are buildings that contain several small shrines where worshippers can mediate and offer their prayers or wishes on slips of white paper or wooden blocks. Suwa Shrine was an incredible peaceful place to be. It was located on top of a hill above the city amongst only trees and plant life. Several of the shrines incorporated small water falls or dripping water, which was set against a back drop of wind moving through the leaves and birds chirping. At one point, we went under approximately fifty red gateways that led to the last shrine, which was a small building with a Japanese style roof and sliding glass doors that revealed a golden statue, flowers and folded paper prayers. As I walked back through on the specified path, passing by devotees who would do a clapping ritual as they approached the shrines, I heard the sound of drums and then flutes. I rushed down to see if I could catch the performance, but I unfortunately missed it.
A few of us decided to walk back to the ship for dinner while the others took the tram (my friend Gabe's birthday was on April 2nd and his Mom ordered him a cake that we need to eat on the ship). Well, we certainly made about 400 wrong turns and walked completely off our map, but we got a much better sense of the city and got to see plenty.
The grocery store/market sold some sort of item from the sea at every stand�many had tentacles. Many kids were walking home from school in their pristine uniforms at around 6:00 PM. Japan is probably the safest country in the world and people and kids walk around the city just like it's a neighborhood (or giant cul de sac as we liked to call it).
That evening, for Jonathan's birthday, we headed out to Shianbashi, or the pleasure district, where we hit up a noodle ship, which is essentially the equivalent of a diner in the U.S. except for the fact that most diners I've been to do not include octopus as a common ingredient in all dishes.
Japan has a very active nightlife as many Japanese enjoy throwing back a few beers whenever they get the chance. Shianbashi was very lit up with decorative gates that had colorful lanterns hanging from them. There were also restaurants, bars, video arcades, and even a few food stands where you get the food and go eat it somewhere secret because it's rude to eat on the streets.
The second day was primarily devoted to the Atomic Bomb Museum and Peace Park. The museum was particularly moving and interesting in the way it was set up as a plea for peace and elimination of nuclear weapons. Although it was difficult to see all the images and read the stories of survivors, this set up made it easier to be there as an American amongst many Japanese. There was no mention of whether it was necessary to drop the bomb or not, but rather a central focus on not allowing it to happen again. As we entered, we were confronted with images and literature about what was going on in Nagasaki on August 9th, the day the bomb was dropped. A clock on display was frozen in time at 11:02 a.m., the time the bomb exploded. Remnants of an elementary school, a Christian church and other buildings were set up in an eerie dark room to try and provide a feeling for what it would have been like to be in Nagasaki after the bombing. Another area reiterated the sequence of events on August 9th emphasizing that if it wasn't for a quick break in the clouds, the bomb may not have been dropped as the American plane was almost out of fuel. Melted glass bottles, contorted eye glasses, clumps of fused coins, images of burns and a wall of stories all reinforced the severity of the attack. One in particular that affected me and many other SASers I talked to is told by a young boy who finds his baby sibling trapped under a heavy pole. Several sailors try to free the child, but are unsuccessful. Soon the boy sees a naked purple woman running towards them who turns out to be his mother who was working in the rice field during the explosion. The badly burnt mother frees the baby only to die that evening. The last part of the museum focuses on the damage nuclear testing has inflicted to the landscape and people in different parts of the world. I had no idea that there have been 2,028 nuclear weapons tests since the first in 1945.
Now for a lighter part, the part I'm sure you have all been waiting for�RAW FISH! That evening we went to a traditional Japanese restaurant where we took our shoes off and sat on cushions on the floor (which is actually what we did in restaurants half the time regardless of how nice they are). Luckily, the menu had plenty of pictures on it so I could make sure I wasn't getting something completely inedible. There really aren't too many things that fit into that category for me anymore. I ended up with sushi rolls, sashimi, tempura, miso and a funky fish custard with a mushroom at the bottom. I'm sure many of you already know this, but I had to go to Japan to find out. Sushi is actually only rice and vinegar. When it�s a sushi roll, then it's wrapped in seaweed. Raw fish is sashimi, which to my ultimate surprise, I thoroughly enjoyed. I'm not positive, but I think I had salmon, squid, tuna, prawn and something else good. Tempura is fried fish or vegetables and miso is a type of soup that tastes like it came straight from the ocean to me.
Day three and four were reserved for adventures! I and a few friends took a combination of trains and buses to Unzen, a small town set right next to the volcano, Mt. Fugen. I just have to mention that the trains and buses we took over the course of the next two days were positively the most immaculate forms of public transportation I've ever seen. Unzen itself is famous for its hot springs and geothermal activity that makes it a perfect spa area. A spa in Japan means an incredible hot bath were everyone gets naked and hangs out. It was incredibly foggy, wet and raining out, so we decided not to hike Mt. Fugen and hang out in the small sulfur smelling resort town of Unzen. There were several little paths around the muddy bubbling hot springs, a small Shinto shrine and a Buddhist temple that contained a trail with over a hundred small Buddha statues lining the way. While everyone decided to leave, Jonathan and I decided to stay the night so we could go to the nearby town of Shimabara the next day. After a few failed communication attempts, we stayed in a guest house where we sat and drank green tea and Sake, watched Japanese television, and slept on extraordinarily comfortable mats on the floor. We had our own hot (scaling) baths, which would have been a lot more beneficial if I would have been able to put more than my foot in.
By the time we got to Shimabara, the temperature had dropped and the rain increased, but I knew all was well when I saw the "flee (flea?) Market". For as much as I've learned and changed on this trip, there is one part of me that remains as strong as ever and that is my undying love of thrift stores. Can you imagine how cool a Japanese thrift store is? I'm talking kimonos, nice pianos, beautiful delicate dishware, and furniture and of course more random t-shirts than I would know what to do with. After my hey day at the flea market, J-Thon and I decided to just brave the weather and walk around. Shimabara wasn't exactly the quaintest little city I've ever been to; in fact, it was louder and more abrasive than Nagasaki and uses its castle to bring in tourists. The castle was nice I suppose. It was surrounded by a parking lot and we spent about twenty minutes there. We actually spent most of our day in second hand shops, walking around in the rain (lost, most of the time), trying to talk to an old lady in her noodle shop, and walking out of a restaurant that seemed to only serve raw meat. It was definitely a fun day.
We had to be back on the ship today by 4:00 p.m. so I took the time to walk around by myself, since I knew the city pretty well by now, and add to my extensive tea and CD collections. I bought a lot of tea, but most CDs were thirty dollars. The CD store itself is always an interesting experience. It seems that punk is all the rage in Japan as in the United State (is it still?? It's been awhile.) And, of course, they have an overabundant share of teenage bubblegum pop groups. There was very little music imported from the States, not to say that it doesn�t exist, but to a much lower degree than in the other places we have visited. Anyway, well it's quite late and tomorrow is Korean seminar day (Korean Boot Camp). In closing, I will mention that Japan is expensive, they are richer than us and wear cooler clothes. I'll give a better sum up after Osaka.
Love,
Julia
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