Semester at Sea
The Semester at Sea program stops in the Republic of Mauritius for a relaxing break on the beach. Part of the Mascarene Islands, Mauritius is an island nation off the southeast coast of Africa.
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The Semester at Sea program stops in the Republic of Mauritius for a relaxing break on the beach. Part of the Mascarene Islands, Mauritius is an island nation off the southeast coast of Africa.
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>The typical tourist tends to measure value by the dollar exchange rate. Whether one is buying a souvenir, planning a trip or calling a cab, the first step is usually converting the price, experience or expenditure into monetary value. Much of my time abroad has been allotted to understanding “value.” In South Africa, I found that watching the sunset and sunrise was what made my time in Cape Town worthwhile. Although I thoroughly enjoyed my safari experience, wine tasting across Stellenbosch, dining at the gorgeous Waterfront and shark diving off Camps Bay, the richest sounds, smells and tastes were found in my least expensive visit into Zami Mdingi’s home in a South African township.Zami welcomed me into her home with a group of other Semester at Sea students to share some of South Africa’s music and traditional cuisine. At first glance, I would never have expected the tremendous vocals that resonated from Zami’s small figure and boy, was I in for multiple musical treats. Zami and her uncle performed several songs for us that illustrated the best of South Africa’s traditional and modern music. With her voice, her uncle’s guitar, a tambourine and a drum, we heard Isicathamiya music — a genre performed by blacks during apartheid — from the Isicathamiya, Kuma, Mbaqanga and pop genres, including pieces that were used during apartheid to reflect the voice of the people through the lyrics. Zami explained music was a way to peacefully demonstrate against apartheid using the voice as a weapon of power.As they sang everything from a song in the local click language, Xhosa, about finding love, to a rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me To The Moon” and an Afrikaans piece about the apartheid struggle, the talent that rose from that small township home deeply touched every audience member and was mind-boggling. A few minutes of hearing Zami, a passionate, bubbly musician who is wise beyond her years, gave me a cultural concert that a monetary value can’t be placed on.Over a delectable dinner of creamy vegetables, bean stew, Cajun chicken and dozens of side dishes, I asked Zami what made music so valuable to her.“Music is the message of the people, and I know there is music in me,” Zami said. “I prove its value when I sing to a crowd because it uplifts me and keeps me forever young — how could a career be more valuable?”I learned that value isn’t in the pricey dinners, the career that gets you “big bucks” or the tourist attractions that offer you a nice Kodak photo for an extra five-dollar bill. Zami taught me that value is found in passion, in reaching into the lives of others and leaving an experience that is so much greater than a price tag.— espitzer@indiana.edu
A view of Cape Town from the port at Sunrise, including Table Mountain. Table Mountain is 3000 feet tall and can be seen across Cape Town.
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Sailing into Cape Town at sunrise had me singing the “Circle of Life”’s Zulu phrases at the top of my lungs as the majestic view of Table Mountain, Lion’s Head and the rest of the luxurious landscape welcomed me to South Africa. Coming from the poor, cluttered and rundown streets in Ghana, it didn’t seem like we could be in the same continent. After a 3,000-foot and two-hour StairMaster-like hike to the top of Table Mountain, I could see the entire region, which filled me with a sense of total liberation. Like Simba, I felt as though the entire kingdom had just been passed down to me. And, like Simba, I was proud that Pride Rock was mine.Infinite sources of fantastic flora, fauna and fortune are visible from Cape Town’s famous landmark. Determined to see this new place, I visited Robben Island the next morning. Traveling about seven miles by ferry, I was again astounded by the splendor of the city as seen from the island. There I was, viewing the breathtaking sights that made me feel most liberated while I visited Nelson Mandela’s prison cell, where he was held for 18 of his 27 years in isolation. The juxtaposition of my freedom and Mandela’s emancipation after exercising free speech and fighting for equality made me think that not everything could be as it seemed.Known as the “father of South Africa,” Mandela started the African National Congress, became the first black president in South Africa and advocated for an end to apartheid without violence, combating inequality and apartheid by winning the hearts of his people. How could 18 years of staring at the most splendid sights through the bars of a small cell not shroud Nelson’s hope for equality? I felt inspired by Mandela’s devotion to ending South Africa’s poverty and segregation after he was imprisoned for so long. It was no coincidence that the Dutch put the rich white folk downtown and hid the prisoners miles away from the shore to help maintain a false appearance of peace.The contradictory feelings — from being ruler of the kingdom at the top of Table Mountain to being a jailed prisoner at Robben Island — don’t seem easy to resolve. Not only did I recognize the importance of never losing hope in moral messages, such as Mandela’s of equality and respect through peace, I also realized I must not come to my own conclusions so easily. When I arrived at Cape Town, the sights, the waterfront shopping mall and the exquisite scenery took me aback. However, there are many more details woven into the colorful African fabric. Apartheid influences still exist, and unemployment affects about 40 percent of South Africans in Cape Town. The kind of nation Mandela fought for through 27 years behind bars requires effort from every citizen. It is easy for a visitor to see the rich, gorgeous waterfront and conclude that all is well. However, when looking past the magnificent views of Table Mountain, one can see leftovers of impoverishment and apartheid that linger defiantly to keep part of South Africa’s splendor imprisoned. There is plenty of work to be done to honor Mandela’s message, end racial segregation and promote peace.— espitzer@indiana.edu
Cape Town, South Africa is visible from Robben Island.
Nelson Mandela was held in this prison cell at Robben Island, South Africa. Mandela, former president of South Africa and an activist who fought apartheid, was held at Robben Island for 18 of the 27 years he spent behind bars as a political prisoner.
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>I traveled to Ghana for five days and returned with enough flooding memories, realizations and reflections to process forever. My glimpse of the life of a Ghanaian has completely reconstructed the way I define “value” based on the observations I made in a collective culture.In our Western, individualistic culture, the materialistic goods you flaunt, the car you cruise in and the cash in your pocket define value. We have been taught to express our gratitude and appreciation for others by giving them gifts with monetary value to bring us closer. My experiences with the people of Ghana proved otherwise.For two nights, I stayed in the Tafi Atome village in the Volta region of Ghana. When I arrived around nightfall, the village was as lit up as Bloomington is during a power outage. Very little electricity circulated through the village, water was conserved in buckets and obtained from the nearest water source and each home resembled a small, simple shack. Noticing how little money was invested in the structures, I first felt as though I had reached a poverty stricken, underprivileged, tragic town. However, right as I stepped off the bus, I was welcomed by warm sounds of children’s laughter as they ran up to greet us, a delicious meal of Ghanaian delicacies and celebratory songs resonating from beating drums and voices. The scene did not display tragedy, but festivity.I spent the next morning interacting with school children in the village, visiting the third grade class to teach them some of our songs and games from home while they showed me some of theirs. Entering the room and seeing the children’s faces light up at the presence of guests immediately produced feelings of affection and connection. We sat in the middle of the recess field singing the Ghanaian children’s upbeat tune that accompanies their version of “duck, duck, goose,” and I introduced myself to the 8-year-old boy to my left, Michael.Within seconds of being introduced, Michael reached out to grab my hand. Never have I felt such a genuine, gravitated connection to a child after such a brief introduction. For the hour that we spent playing, Michael didn’t let go of my hand, and I knew that the feeling of comradeship was sincere and reciprocated. When the time came for me to leave the school, I took out a bag of toys that included stickers, stencils, pencils and bracelets to share with the kids, hoping to leave them with something “valuable” as a token of appreciation. I would never have expected what came next.Releasing the bag of gifts was like releasing a caged tiger. Kids who weren’t accustomed to receiving gifts and instead found pleasure in playing with one another were exposed to toys made of petty pieces of plastic. Michael dropped my hand and joined the other children in, stampeding each other to get to the gold. The scene turned sour as a mosh pit of students formed in front of me, leaving me with very few options in calming the storm. I left as the children begged me to “please give me, give me” over and over again. Watching the students, I felt sick for not giving them more but even sicker for disrupting the actual valuable gift, which was the interaction we engaged in. Before, holding hands as we played, we reciprocated gratitude. Now, I simply became the giver of material goods rather than emotional bonds. With the help of teachers, we came back in five minutes when the kids had settled down, and I was trampled with hugs as the kids awarded me with goodbyes. Waving goodbye to Michael left me missing him immediately — not because I brought toys, but because I brought him a friend to play with.I came to the village initially feeling sorry for the Ghanaian’s misfortunes. I left feeling envious of the sincere and priceless prosperity they found in one another. After meeting Michael and finding friendship in Ghana, I am certain value is generated through connections untainted with monetary, materialistic possessions.— espitzer@indiana.edu
Children in the Monkey Tafi Atome village take a break on their walk from the river back to the village. Children must help bring water home for the day from the river as soon as they are able to make the trip.
Ghanaian school children smile, excited by the flashing light and clicking sounds of the camera. The school children loved to pose for the camera and see themselves in the photograph on the digital screen.
The Ghanaian flag waves at Akosombo village by Lake Volta. Lake Volta is the largest man made lake in the world and generates electricity for the whole country.
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Ghanaian musician Sheriff Ghale smiled at the sounds produced by the Semester at Sea students’ rhythmic circle and kept the clapping of the collaboration cohesive. Sheriff, an in-port guest accompanying us during our voyage to Ghana, is a celebrated artist who sees music as more than simply sound. For Sheriff, music is a vital organ to society and sustains the culture, beliefs, history and hopes of the Ghanian people. He has spent his life revealing social messages and reliving cultural concerns through his compositions. More than 40 different ethnic groups are represented in the country of Ghana alone. Although many similarities between ethnicities exist, each are distinct cultural groups. Music is a part of each group’s workplaces and celebratory practices, as well as an oral historical account of society’s framework. Sheriff’s music has done more than entertain listeners — it has spread educational information to the community. Sheriff’s songs about the waterborne illness, guinea worm, were broadcast on Accra city radio stations and raised awareness. Eventually, the disease was eliminated. “I don’t spend my music talking about ladies and cars and bling,” Sheriff said. “I can sing about things that benefit my community — education, health, construction and the essential problems in my village.”As in many African countries, musicians in Ghana are community leaders who influence social movements and contribute to national development while they document the every day. The rich, rustic rhythm certainly distinguishes African music’s origins, but it is the lyrics and message that latch onto prospective listeners. Because the message is the heart of his work, Sheriff has always composed his pieces by writing the words first and then placing them to music.African music is designed to be a participatory, engaging art that makes audience members crucial percussion players. The meaning of the lyrics is communicated and collective, and it is a direct departure from Western music, which is used mainly for entertainment and enjoyed quietly and separately by individual audience members. “Our instruments and our words, they speak,” Sheriff said. “They say more than any kind of club dance music can. The music is the voice of society. Without it, our community is no longer being represented. No music in an African community means that the community is no longer speaking.”In ethnic groups across Ghana, including the Ga and Ewe groups, oral histories have been documented through music and never written on paper. These stories are preserved in song and dance passed down by memory alone and keep the ethnic groups functioning together.African music might not be composed or put on paper, but sounds always accompany daily tasks, leaving little space for silence. Work songs from agricultural fields to the post office are played and are an essential part of the labor. Whether keeping time while stamping envelopes or drumming while collecting crops, the beat sets the pace for the operation. Like our heart, without the vital beat, everything comes to a stop.Music composes the African people’s past, present and future just as much as the people compose the music. Each special genre and dance has room for personal interpretation, allowing members to express their identity and creativity through transmission. With only a few days of sea separating us from the coast of Ghana, Sheriff has advised me to listen closely to all street sounds so that, even as a foreigner, I, too, can receive the full-fledged cultural experience by unveiling the message magnified in the music.
A student from the Escola de Samba Aparecida school prepares to preform during Carnival celebration in Rio on Thursday.
A flower in the Amazon Rainforest in Acajatuba Village.
The Meeting of the Waters is the point where the Rio Negro River and Solimos River meet to make the Amazon river. They flow side by side for almost four miles before forming the Amazon River.
People on a tour boat search for caimans, a reptile in the crocodile family, in the Rio Negro River.
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>I just spent four days in Brazil on two sides of the Amazon River, encompassed by nature in the Amazon rainforests and the shuffling Samba steps in the city of Manaus. As I moved from one side to the other, I found myself rocking to two different rhythms. The Amazon River is the blending of the Coca-Cola colored waters of the Rio Negro and the café-latté-colored waters of the Solimos river, flowing side by side at two separate speeds for four miles before combining into a chocolate brown. Just like the obvious parting of the waters, I found a noticeable change of pace on each side of the Amazon.In Amazonia, I traveled by canoe in the slow, steady yet powerful waters, scouting for caimans, fishing for piranhas and visiting the indigenous people in Acajatuba village. The villagers nurtured the natural environment, moving at the same peaceful pace of the river, using the rainforest’s resources in place of a supermarket, butcher, pharmacy, etc. Being swayed to sleep in a hammock with the authentic chirping and slithering sounds I had only previously heard on nature CDs, I felt an unforgettable source of tranquility and serenity encompassed in the green, luscious landscape.Returning from such reflections in the Amazon to explore magical Manaus was a whole different cup of Brazilian coffee. I was given the last-minute opportunity to visit the Escola de Samba Aparecida, one of Manaus’s finest samba schools, where members spend all year practicing their routine to perform at Brazil’s largest annual celebration of Carnival. Carnival is a Brazilian form of Mardi Gras that celebrates the days leading up to Lent. For the week of Carnival, the streets are smothered in celebration, and every Brazilian — regardless of social status, career, beliefs or the problems going on in his or her life — will put everything aside and celebrate authentic Brazilian culture. Samba, the national dance and music genre of Brazil, is traditionally fast-paced and rhythmic, requiring quick, swift steps and a spot-on sense of rhythm. Wearing spectacular masks and embroidered costumes, party-goers disguise themselves, taking on different roles for the week in which everyone is equal and takes part in the fun. With only a few weeks before the samba school heads to Rio to perform in Carnival, I was able to take part in a “rehearsal,” the most vibrant, exciting and extraordinary cultural celebration I have ever been in. Two hours passed faster than the feet of the samba dancers. The whole city seemed to come to a stop while hundreds of students armed with powerful percussion instruments followed the dancers and invited locals to join the fun.The school participants took our hands, taught us the samba steps and even handed us their drums, allowing me to experience this exhilarating musical collaboration. Savoring a taste of the Carnival celebration while watching the electrifying feet of the samba dancers, I felt a whole different freedom through the rhythms on the other side of the Amazon River.Like the two separate rivers, I encountered two diverse and distinct experiences in the rhythms characteristic of each side of the Amazon River. The two separate paces ultimately combined to create the proud, matchless, exciting culture of Brazil’s brilliant beat.— espitzer@indiana.edu
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>Six splendid days have passed since I finally stepped on the ship, and one port has already been crossed off the itinerary. Dominica — no, not the Dominican Republic — the country I was least excited and anxious to visit, had me head-over-heels in love. With its luxurious landscape, friendly locals and rich culture, I was sold as soon as I saw it from the distance as we pulled in to port.When Christopher Columbus “discovered” the island of Dominica in 1493, he was not impressed with its design. About 330 square miles — nearly two thirds of the island — covered in rainforest, rugged mountains, volcanoes and hot springs made it seem like an inconvenient place to colonize. Today, the country is known as “The Nature Island of the Caribbean” and is distinguishable for its flora and fauna, rich soil, agriculture and its surviving population of indigenous people, who are known as the Caribs.The locals were eager to share their knowledge, take us around their homes and help us experience the Dominican lifestyle. I was surprised when my taxi driver gave us the full tour-guide experience, accompanying us on our hike and telling us all about the island, its history and about his own banana plantation.The two days at port were too short.I have never visited such a fascinating location where tropical palm trees are juxtaposed and shadowed by tall mountains lying in rainforest — the ecology made for sights that were prettier than a postcard. Visiting the Carib people at Tuna Village gave me a whole new appreciation for nature’s wonders.Their lifestyle seemed wonderful, and smiles seemed permanently painted on the locals’ faces. On top of that, our guide told us that not only have 20 Dominicans lived up to 100 years, but the longest-living woman in the world was Dominican, dying at the age of 128 years.Returning to the ship, I had a new favorite food (fried plantains and sweet potatoes, a delicacy in Dominica), new local friends both from Roseau and the Carib people at Tuna Village and a new appreciation for the unique, most unbelievably laid out island I have ever visited. With love, from the middle of the Caribbean.— espitzer@indiana.edu
Champagne Reef, recognized as Dominica’s premier snorkeling site, ranks among the top five snorkeling sites in the Caribbean and sits on the edge of a submerged volcano.
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>A few days ago, I didn’t think I would be able to attend my Semester At Sea program, or even make it on the ship, due to the Consulate General of Brazil. Although my visa had been submitted to the Consulate long before it was due, political problems, pressure from the travel agency and false promises about how long it would take, kept me from getting to the Bahamas on time. After three days in Fort Lauderdale, waiting and wishing for a quick release, the ship ended up waiting for all 10 students who had visa problems. It cost $25,000 to hold the boat and keep it running at the dock for a day, and I have never felt like such a VIP before in my life.Because the Dean of Students was among the VIP voyagers who did not receive their papers, the Semester At Sea crew was willing to make the financial sacrifices to get us on the ship. We ended up getting new passports and boarded the last flight to the Bahamas, ready to meet the ship before it took off.Now I’m on board, and I could not be happier. The Semester At Sea ship, the MV Explorer, is the fastest traveling boat of its kind and is able to travel fast enough to get us to our first port at Rousseau, Dominica on time. The ship’s maximum cruising speed is 28 knots, and we have gone about 21 nautical miles every hour.With 800 of us wobbling around like a morning after Kilroys Sports Bar, we are all waiting to get our sea legs and get used to the motion of the ocean. The views are incredible, and my favorite part has been watching the sunrise and sunset from the ship’s dock, making me feel more brilliant than Rose from Titanic — before the whole iceberg incident, of course. With about 500 students on board, residents represent the multifarious interests from numerous colleges on the map. This community’s diversity brings a new kind of friendliness and thrill that keeps me pumped, regardless of the boat’s non-stop rock. Along with the wiggling and wobbling, getting used to life on the ship has been a sweet suite life. And no worries, IU, with five of us from Bloomington, we established an IU crew, and everyone on board is already aware that we boss around the Big Ten and do it better than any other campus.Cruisin’ through the Caribbean, we are following the waves of Columbus and will arrive in Dominica just in time to watch the ship reach Monday morning’s port. I am ecstatic to experience my first port, famous for its fantastic rainforests with a population of Carib indigenous people, and start marking up my passport.Finally, I am on a boat! With love, from the deep blue sea, and ready to hop out in Dominica tomorrow.— espitzer@indiana.edu
____simple_html_dom__voku__html_wrapper____>I’ve caught a case of the travel hiccups that even a good scare can’t cure. I hired a travel agency to take care of my various visas needed for the Semester At Sea and trusted that everything would be ready on time. The agency was supposed to expedite my passport and prepare my visas before Saturday but, as Saturday came and went, there were still no packages at my door. My flight for the Bahamas was in three days, and I started to panic when I realized no mail would be delivered Monday due to Martin Luther King Jr. Day.After months of endless preparation, packing and trust that my papers were taken care of, everything seemed to spin out of control very, very quickly. Immediately, I contacted Semester at Sea and travel agencies and found that my papers were stuck at the Consulate General of Brazil in New York. The embassy was closed Monday for the holiday, and I couldn’t be sure when my documents would be ready. The bad news: I won’t be able to go to the Bahamas. The good news: I’m not alone. Right now, there are about 25 other students whose passports are stuck in New York. We have been advised to fly to Fort Lauderdale, Fla., so that we will all be together. The best-case scenario is that we get our visas from the Brazilian embassy and meet the ship by Thursday to depart for Nassau. The worst-case scenario is that we remain visa-less and wait to meet the ship in the next port, which is at Rouseau, Dominica.In the span of three days, I have gone from preparing for an ideal family vacation in the Bahamas to finding out that no such vacation is possible, no matter who I slip a twenty to. Welcome to the world of international travel: Things don’t always go as planned, and trusting a foreign government to cater to your needs can require a big leap of faith.At this point, I can wallow in self-pity or be thankful that I am still on the course to take the trip of a lifetime. Sure, I may have to skip beach bumming in the Bahamas for a few days, but it is a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. Both the representatives at the travel agency and Semester At Sea are doing everything they can, and right now my only job is to follow a popular phrase: “Keep calm and carry on.”— espitzer@indiana.edu