I don't understand how you could really live in Barcelona, or be here for four days. And by four days I mean ONLY four days. Though I've seen a lot, I haven't stepped inside a museum (not that it matters too much), I haven't eaten a real meal of tapas, and I've only had one glass of sangria and three beers the entire time. Shame on me. I want more. Sangria party at my place when I get back, j/k.
Alas, today's plan didn't change any of that. I went bar hopping last night, so I got back really really late. (Yes, I had a good time. No I'm not writing about it.) Alas, so did everyone else. I did get up for breakfast, however, enjoyed it with a few friends, before realizing sleep deprivation affects perception just as bad as alcohol. (I had one can of beer. Trust me, I wasn't hungover.) So I went back to bed.
When I came to, it was lunchtime. I ran into Hang, I hung out with at Las Ramblas the first day, and she told me she and Brianna were going out. Not wanting to waste another second with our time left, I came with them.
After traversing the metro and walking up quite a hill, we ended up at Parque Gueil. (My spelling has been terrible this entire time in port, Catalan drives me nuts as much as French. That said, It's definitely on my to-learn list after Tagalog, Spanish, German, French, Esperanto, and Hawaiian. Just before Maori, Korean, and Chinese.) It was a park commissioned by some billionaire before the turn of the 20th century, and designed by Gaudi. That name Gaudi has come up a couple different times. That said, it means only one thing- this part was somewhat out of this world.
The exterior of the park was lined with a wall covered in tile with circular designs. (That's a terrible description. Quite frankly, I find it hard to put Gaudi in words, you can hardly relate it to anything you've seen before ever.) When we went through the front entrance, we saw a striking set of stairs ascending further up the hill. I would compare them to Spanish steps, except in Gaudi style.
If I just use the words "Gaudi style", I suppose I have to try to define it. Okay, take straight lines that are anything but parallel to the ground, vertical, diagonal, whatever. Now throw them out. Take some traditional columns, Ionic, Corinthian, whatever. Don't throw them out, but put them on a roulette with a 1/100 chance of seeing them, with the other 99 being either strangely morphed variations or something that looks more like bone than a column. This stuff is weird. Then throw some eggs on top and paint it with the strangest colors of the visual spectrum. Crazy icing on a freaky cake.
Well, since we can't really talk about architecture anymore, what else is there? On the top of the mountain is a mansion, it might have been a Gaudi but it had vertical lines this time. There were beautiful flowers. There were a lot of tourists, Spanish, American, and Asian alike. There were street salesmen with jewelry, fans, and squeaky toys. Also, a tremendous view of the entire city. Whether we'll disagree on the rest of the park is one thing, but the city view was gorgeous.
We tried to get back at 4 pm because Hang and I had a field directed practicum on the boat for our Psychology class. We listened in on a woman from Doctors without Borders, and learned their purpose, as well as their efforts to aid in mental and psychological health. While we missed perhaps the first fifteen minutes of the presentation because the bus took its sweet time and the security line was long, we were able to appreciate the great deal of difficult work that organization performs for the world.
We had a group picture taken. It was lame. Moving on.
Alec and Gabe, friends of mine who live in the Bahamas, bought guitars while in Spain. I gave them a guitar lesson, trying to teach them the first verse of "Sweet Home Chicago". It brought back memories, seeing them slowly learn chords, struggle to do B7, and strum while I tried to guide them. But both of them are picking up, hopefully they'll be good enough that their parents aren't mad about their purchases.
Tomorrow, we have a two hour Global Studies lecture, followed by Sea Olympics, and I'll be playing Knockout and Ping Pong. Yeah. Also, Italy is coming up quick. See you soon Tito Percy!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Barcelona Day 4- Sleep is good
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Barcelona Day 3- Camp Nou and Montjuic
I anticipated this specific day for probably two months; though in reality I've anticipated every day of this trip since February. But today is special, because we get to delve into Barcelona's culture of athletics with Camp Nou and the Olympic Stadium.
As you know, I've been blessed to have seen a number of ballparks and stadiums in my life. The hallowed brick and ivy of Wrigley and the cleanliness of Camden, the roars of M&T Bank and the grotesqueness of RFK. Not to forget Naval Academy's football stadium, as well as the top of Byrd Stadium. But Barcelona's are home to two significant phenomena- the best football team in the world (hey, even if you disagree, that's what they keep telling me) FC Barcelona and the 1992 Olympics.
Camp Nou was built in 1959, so it's not exactly Cowboy Stadium. Despite that, it holds about 80,000 people, an impressive feat for a stadium that old. Prior to fire code regulations, they could stuff as many as 120,000 into the confines. Quite frankly, that's ridiculous. Even today it remains one of the highest capacity stadiums in the world.
The blue and red seats were somewhat tattered, but definitely serviceable. The stadium was worse for wear, but still good.
Across a couple sections of them were the words, "Mes Que Un Equip", (Watch that be completely wrong) which means "More than A Team" in Catalan. During the dictatorship, the use of Catalan in public places was banned, as the government tried to produce a uniform culture for all of Spain. But within Camp Nou, Catalan could be freely spoken, chanted, and celebrated; no way the government could arrest 80,000-120,000 people. So in a way FC Barcelona was a way to preserve the local Catalan culture- the entirety of Catalunya is behind this team. Mes Que Un Equip.
Attached to the stadium was a museum, celebrating all the championships FC Barcelona has won since the end of the 19th century. There were rows and rows of assorted trophies. They even had the most recent UEFA Champions League trophy on display.
The Olympic Stadium is of a completely different style. On the exterior was a very Romanesque design with pillars, and statues of men with chariots. It had a majesty fitting of the 1992 Olympics. The interior was set up with a a field in center and track and field stuff surrounding.
Quick fact: When NFL Europa was an existing league, the Barcelona Dragons played here. The dragon refers to Saint George, whose cross (aka the England flag) is associated with Barcelona. Both are considered a myth; I haven't remembered the legend since elementary school.
I have pictures, I swear! In Italy I'll probably have a big posting day, and then you'll be flooded with photos (I'll have timed posts so it doesn't come in a freaky storm).
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Barcelona Day 2- I Would Like New Shoes
My Under Armour shoes suck now. The insoles of them are a bit tattered and it is a nuisance to walk in them. Doesn't help that my sandals are torn from playing basketball in them (I know, not the smartest idea, but I played really well in them the first day).
In the morning, my friend Brianna, a Mexican Computer Science major from SD State, and I walked around Las Ramblas, again. This time, we had goals: for her, a souvenir for her brother, and for me, fan gear of the best soccer team in the world.
Along the way, we enjoyed window shopping, admiring Gaudi architecture, and eating lunch. The farther you went down the street, the classier the store, reaching the pinnacle of expensive toward the end, with a really classy wedding dress place. Gaudi was everywhere again today, and I need to find time to upload all my pictures to share his madness. Lunch we went to a baguette place and shared a sandwich. Throughout our journey we talked about our home campuses, our computer science programs, and future plans. Very chill morning.
We also went to the mall that I talked about yesterday but can't remember its name for the life of me. We used the free internet to check our facebook walls with our apple devices. Clearly we were both addicts. After we went to McDonald's to buy a medium (for me) and small (for her) Coca-Cola; we got a small (in American) drink and a midget cup. Welcome to the world outside the United States- things are smaller here.
Based on our estimates we may have walked some four to six miles just during the morning. Both our feet hurt, but for the souvenirs it was worth it, we felt.
By 1:20, we were back at the ship, because she had a field directed practicum. I had free time, so I socialized with other students, played the piano, talked about cleats (boots) with my Bahamian friend who bought a pair, and practiced my shot (which still sucks). Also, siesta. Enough said.
At 9 PM, I went with another group of friends out to dinner. We went to a small restaurant which served tapas ("stuff"), though we didn't eat in typical Spanish style and most of us got entrees, accompanied with fries. I got bistec. Bistec is good, Tagalog or not, assuming you didn't screw it up. Some of them also got sangria (aka the thing I tried yesterday but can't spell for my life). Good dinner.
We walked Las Ramblas (again) and then waited for the bus. Faculty and staff who were waiting there got impatient and hailed taxis; half of our group went with them. The other half walked back across the bridge to the terminal. It didn't help my shoes, to say the least.
Overall, not a bad day, but certainly not as amazing as the first day. But tomorrow I hit up Camp Nou (watch that be completely wrong)- Viva Barcelona.
Barcelona Day 1- Much Longer Than Expected, Way Better than Expected
WARNING: This is super long. You may want to get some desert and coffee while reading. Corresponding pics will come. Maybe later today!
Jose Rizal did not like Spanish rule. Three hundred years of their rule while discriminating against the natives and suffering them with an iron fist wins no one. While we remain shaped by those formative years in many ways (heck, look at ¾ of our last names and a couple thousand words of Tagalog vocabulary), we shouldn't necessarily be thankful, as Spanish presence was both a blessing and curse.
Spain itself, however, was another matter, he did agree it's a beautiful country. And while I don't know if he ever went to Catalunya (He spent a lot of years in Madrid and Germany), I think Barcelona is a great city in and of itself.
So I went on the city tour through SAS. It honestly didn't start off well. The trip started at 1230 hours but some people were already drunk. I couldn't help but feel angry, annoyed, and somewhat jealous all at the same time.
But we got on site and walked around churches, the Catedral Gotic and Sagrada Familia. Around the Gothic church there was actually quite a bit to see. The area was crowded with a number of smaller, yet culturally significant buildings, with a lot of history. One of which was a church that Gaudi used to visit. A number of street performers played guitars or other instruments in open areas around the gothic church.
La Sagrada Familia is a famous, yet incomplete church designed by Gaudi. (I think I heard it relies on public funding only.) (Eventually) twelve spires rise up into the heavens representing the twelve apostles, while a center one is meant to represent Jesus Christ. Throughout the sides of the church are numerous detailed statues depicting episodes of his life from his birth, his betrayal, and the crucifixion. For both its grand scale and minute details, you could take amazing pictures but believe that not a single one will tell the building's entire story. And I haven't even been inside it yet (I might go later in the week depending on planning). Definitely something that needs to be on any architect or art historian's bucket list is seeing this church, even in its incomplete form. (Certainly hope it gets finished during my lifetime...)
The final stop of the tour was what was called The Spanish Village. It was an area built to represent the multiple areas of Spain through architecture- it had pseudo-neighborhoods each with a specific state's architectural style. Unfortunately we weren't able to explore it too much.
Rather, we were there for the flamenco performance. The atmosphere was somewhat semi-formal, a well lit eating area, with a bar on the side and a stage in the corner. We were served san greal (Free alcohol!) with olives, goldfish (I don't know, you'll see), and potato chips. Olives were pretty good, however, I would still prefer the black olives on my pizza. Goldfish had a bread-like texture, but were enjoyable nonetheless. The potato chips were unsalted, and looked somewhat fresh. They felt cleaner than back home.
The performance itself was astounding. I've seen an American flamenco performance before and quite frankly, that was nothing compared to this. If I've ever compared the Dinuya dance (aka the loincloth incident) to an all-out sprint, flamenco is a minute marathon for the dancer. You could not help but to be astounded.
The four performers, two dancers, one primary singer, and guitar player, fed off each other's energy. Whether he or she was sitting or dancing, every performer was producing rhythm that all the other performers worked with. The name of the game is clapping, and it was important that the performer kept time with everyone else.
When one of the women stood up, the flamenco seemed more like a physical trial than simply a dance. It seemed like a combination of hula (for the hand motions), tap, river dance, stomping, and figure skating all in one, yet its intensity outweighed the sum of these comparisons. With every other step it was as if she was at war with the ground and the devil beneath it, with rhythmic stomping that shook the entire room. And then there were times where it was as if she was possessed by the devil, her feet moving and ungodly speeds. By the end of it all, both dancers were sweaty and tired, gasping for air.
It was a truly moving performance.
Somehow the day kept going to my surprise. After we went back to the ship for dinner, a couple of girls and I went along the beach, which turned out to be much more than that. There was no direct route from the boat to the beach, so we jumped off the shuttle outside the aquarium and made our way to the beach by foot. Despite the walk's length, the girls really enjoyed it. We found a mall (with really expensive Barcelona gear). And they hit up the ATM.
We got to interact with locals on our way there. We rain into a painter who was painting the harbor, and he didn't mind conversing with the girls about his work. We walked through an inner-city neighborhood and saw tinier bakeries and shops that were out of the way. It was clearly residential, with clothes drying off the balconies, and children hanging out in the street. It was a nice departure from the sightseeing to observe actual Barcelona life.
When we finally did get to the beach, we enjoyed floating about in the Mediterranean water. The water was calm, there weren't waves at all. For a Monday afternoon, it was preetty busy; there were both natives and American beachgoers all around (you can tell by the English).
We then walked to a sculpture we only knew as “The Fish” or “The Whale.” It was made by some renowned artist that we learned about in Global Studies, that I forget... On our way there we passed a couple dance clubs, including Opium, which was one everyone was talking about.
Looking for dessert, we decided to hit La Rambla (or Las Ramblas, I think the first way is Catalan), the main street of Barcelona. It's an astounding place, lined with shops and restaurants, filled with wonderful performers and and people selling stupid light-up toys (I'll be frank). There were so many restaurants none of us could pick where to eat. We eventually settled for some gelato, and I got a cone with coco y piña. It was really good ice cream. We then took the cab back home, er, to the ship.
A couple side notes: I keep trying to talk to the shopkeepers in Spanish and they keep responding in English. This is a little perplexing. I guess they hear us make conversation in English and then they enter bilingual mode, as a linguist theory would say. At least we were mutually intelligible.
Running into Americans not affiliated with SAS is common. I overheard another English speaking tour guide, and wondered out loud, “British people?” only to be responded to with “American.” Also, we ran into an American couple taking pictures on the beach, and a lot of cute Asian American girls swimming in it. Barcelona is quite the tourist attraction.
Jerseys are expensive. I don't believe the words “cheap” and “Lionel Messi jersey” fit together. Or at least Barcelona leads me to believe that. But as we traversed La Rambla, prices did seem to get cheaper. Hopefully I can find something nice.
Filipinos are visible in Barcelona too, I ran into a family taking their son on a stroll en route to La Rambla. I also overheard a couple yelling at each other from a distance in Tagalog (don't worry, they weren't arguing).
We saw a fight break out on Las Ramblas too. Some guy got in with it with an Indian-looking waiter. Meanwhile, some woman was yelling in the background. We turned to our friend who was fluent in Spanish only to get a confused look; they were yelling in Catalan.
I'll post pictures I swear... next time I go to Starbucks.
Monday, June 27, 2011
We're in Port!
We've docked in Barcelona! Now we're waiting for immigration officials to come on and run us through all our paperwork, and then we gotta sit through an information session. But then all systems go!
If you see a post(s) that end with Episode #'s and say I'm confused, disregard them- I wrote them maybe a month ago in advance. We're good I swear.
Where Am I Today? (Episode 1)- SPAIN!!
Spain! The land of... the people that essentially conquered the world (We could argue the Brits took over more, but really, I don't care). We'll be landing in the city of Barcelona, in Catalonia! ... I wish I knew a bit of Catalan, it could come in handy...
Anywho, I'm looking forward to seeing some flamenco dancing, and maybe watching some sports (I don't think soccer is in session, but maybe some bullfighting?). And I'm definitely not leaving this country without a Messi jersey! If you got ideas for what I should do, let me know (via email, it should be listed somewhere on facebook)...
Shout out to Alexa Walczak! Mi hermanita de espana!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
C8- Wait, no class for a week? (And Italy is GO!)
Yes. That's right. The week had its ups and downs. But now everything is looking up.
I'm done with midterms, for now. Psychology was a little rough, I forgot a lot of names for some terms. But I felt like I did well enough with true and false and explaining to warrant a B. We'll see.
I think I finished planning for Italy. Everyone who needed to get back to me got back to me, so I set it up and I'll just meet the boat at Civitavecchia. After the first day of Naples tour, head over to Bologna, spend some days with Tito Percy and his family, sometime during that part visit Tita Edith for maybe a day or two, then make it back to Civitavechia to meet up with the boat. I might even make it back in time for a field trip I booked in advance... that I completely lost interest in.
Did anything interesting happen today? Otherwise no. Or nothing that I thought was important. You be the judge.
I woke up at 300 hours. I was hungry, so I bought a Kit Kat bar, you should know it's my favorite candy. Three other voyagers were having insomnia, so I joined them and played Apples to Apples for an hour or so. Nobody can escape that game no matter where they are. Also, Helen Keller is an instant win across the entire country, but that I should've known. It was fun.
Bought chicken wings for lunch because I didn't want beef tacos- once you go to Taqueria Nacional, anything else is just subpar (granted outside of Taqueria, I only eat chicken Mexican food anyway). The bar waitress always tells me the chicken wings are good. They're not bad, but they could've been spicy. (If the wings don't make me cry, they're not doing it for me.) I threw on some tobasco sauce and chowed down.
Tomorrow we land in Spain. I'm not going to type up my itinerary for the upteenth time, you can just scroll down. Hopefully I'll make time to go to a McDonald's or something to upload pictures to here or Facebook.
Dreaming of Land- Italy (Also, Cry for Assistance)
So it's six o clock in the morning in the Mediterranean off Spain. I'm studying for a psychology midterm in a few hours (side note: I had a very interesting conversation with my professor just now about Maryland sports. Absolutely random), I just emailed my mother about some details, when I remember I need to have some paperwork filled out before 2000 hours (8 pm) today about boarding the ship or not between Naples and Civitavecchia. Now I'm panicking a little bit.
For that paperwork I need contact information for where I'm staying. Alas, Tito Percy is slow with email. Or maybe it's not working? I don't know, I've sent him two emails in the past two days, to no response.
I would contact Tita Edith, but I'm told she doesn't have access to email regularly. I would call, but I'm on a ship. (It's so tempting to quote and sing the SNL song.) That's not a real option here. So I'm stuck.
Not to say I can't adjust. It would just mean I would I might have to cut one of them from the itinerary. I would have to spend a day on the train to visit one, spend the day doing something with them, and try to make it back to Naples before the ship disembarks. I honestly would like to take that option off the table to give me flexibility.
I still could still plan to not board the ship too. I just need to fill out the paperwork by today. So
Anyway, with that administrative stuff out of the way, essentially the goals of Italy are to see family, get a feel of the local perspective that was not nearly as accessible the last time I was in Italy, and to break as far from the beaten path as possible, going to cities no other Semester at Sea people would think of going.
I've been to Italy before. I've seen Rome, Florence, Venice, Bologna, Naples, Pisa, and Milan. I have seen a lot of cathedrals and architecture, as well as Roman ruins. It's not a big deal to me if I don't see everything again. In fact, it would be even better if I don't see everything again. That way, I spend money.
That said, I have an unbelievable opportunity nonetheless to experience Italy for a second time, to see what I did not see, and to really be a traveler instead of a tourist this time around. No matter what happens, I have to enjoy this.
Okay, if that wasn't explicit enough, MOM OR DAD MAKE A PHONE CALL WHEN YOU WAKE UP PLEASE. Or look it up. I just need to put someone's address down. Thank you.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
C7- Ka Ora
Ka ora means “'Tis life” Or “I may live”. Either way, the Maori phrase finds relevance in my day. Yes, I took it from the haka, and yes I remember I'm a Filipino-Australian-American not a New Zealander. It doesn't mean I can't admire their culture. Moving on.
I woke up early again today, for no good reason. I ran into a couple of friends from the Photographers at Sea facebook group who were also up. Both of them with cameras at hand, they were getting ready to watch the sun rise.
The attempt was interesting at least. The sky lit up in beautiful yellows, reds and blues, but the horizon was covered by distant clouds. Also it was as windy as it's been. And if you don't know, you should know how much I dislike the wind. It's up there with rain. @Alex Schwartz
We had a big midterm in Global Studies today. The one I was like, “I don't need to study! I've got this down. Who needs to look at their notes?” But quite frankly, I had way too much time on my hands between lunch and the test, I gave in and looked at them. I forget if anything was particularly helpful.
That said, I killed that test. *head cut off motion* Conceptually it was exactly like I thought it would be- just primarily general questions, with a small increment of tough trivia. And even the trivial stuff wasn't tough. “Who wrote our textbook?” For real, that was a question. I know what I know and I don't what I don't. If you got it you got it if you don't you don't. Truth is self-evident.
I talked to a couple of students from UVA right after, some of whom I saw worrying in the morning. They felt like they did well as well, granted some put a lot more time in than I did. It matters a little more to them that they do well, because rather than transferring as Pass/Fail like it would for me, it goes directly to attack their GPA if they screw up. High reachers and achievers, these ones are. As for me, even if I didn't do as well as I thought, I know the sky doesn't fall. I just need above a C- no matter what. C'est la vie. See what I did there?
After class I went out to see the Strait of Gibraltar, where to the north is Europe and to the south is Africa. I have seen Africa, and it is kind of foggy. Well, Europe was too. That was somewhat disappointing, but I will get another shot at it on our way to Casablanca. I got nice pictures of boats and ships either way.
We made our way into port now, and the Rock of Gibraltar is visible from the boat. I have a couple pictures in front of it, one will be my profile picture at some point. But until then, reading these posts is the closest you'll get to seeing my face.
Contact: afrancisco@semesteratsea.net
Filipinos at Sea- The H/K Utilities Man
Also, I wrote this while we were entering a port where we're filling up. Strangely awesome.
***
So I'm on my way back to my cabin after taking pictures of the Strait of Gibraltar (more on that later), when I run into one of the utility guys standing outside the union room. We see and say hello to each other a lot, and we knew the other was Filipino. We wave hello, and then he inquires about how many credits I'm taking, how credits I would take back home (Maryland), but then we start comparing life here in the United States and in the Philippines.
I tell him how much my family spent on being on this cruise. (Just find out on your own or from someone else, I don't wanna talk about it...) I was expecting him to be amazed that I would go through with all of this, with the price tag and all. But he argues that the price was more than worth it. He pointed out that a seven day cruise, in the US, is about $2000. Considering that we were seeing the world, were taking credits that go toward the university, and had housing, food, and room cleaning covered (for the most part), he saw the money was going to expenses that we don't think about but spend a lot on back home.
I take about 12-16 credits per semester when I'm at home. Apparently, for Filipino schools nowadays, depending on where you're going and what you're doing, you take about nine, but at the same time the classes take away your entire day. In addition, Filipino college students also have to take mandatory ROTC. Also, a Computer Science degree would take five years instead of four. So really, there's a lot on their plate as well.
I gave him the estimate on tuition and housing for the University of Maryland. (I told him $16,000 instead of $18,000, forgetting tuition went up and additional fees). He told me that for that money, I could've paid to go to De La Salle or Atenao back in the Philippines, the two most prestigious private schools in the home country. Ironically, if I wasn't going to be on this boat, I would've tried to spend a semester at Atenao. My mouth dropped.
Such are the discrepancies between American and Filipino life and cost of living. We compared food expenses too- the Big Mac meal costs $3 in the Philippines? What? Granted, the drink size is half the size as America (8 oz vs 16 oz), but at the same time, that price point is ridiculously low for a full meal.
He then tells me about his father, who worked in the United States and is a dual citizen. Now that he is retired, he receives $1000 Social Security pension. He moved home to the Philippines, has dual citizenship, and essentially is living the life. For a fraction of his pension he is able to pay for a driver, maids, and other help around the house. Meanwhile it costs us maybe $50 to have our house cleaned per session. Welcome to America.
On his own salary alone, the utility man is able to maintain three maids to take of his house, kids, and sari-sari store back home. (For non-Filipinos, think of a tiny 7-11)Sure, his life on the MV Explorer cannot be easy, but for what he is able to maintain back home, I for certain would do the same.
He looks beyond me with concern, and spots his boss go up the staircase behind me. He scurries back to work, but not before giving me a fist bump. I'm left to ponder how I too can get maids cheaply...
(Norman)
Friday, June 24, 2011
C6- We've been here for a week!
Apparently God himself reads my blog. The seas are not serene. It's an extra rocky big blue watery road. Poseidon, look at me! My mid day nap was awesome. Walking around the boat isn't. Some people are walking around in crutches with sprained ankles. You gotta be careful here.
Despite the extra rockiness, I think I'm more than good on the sea sickness. I accidentally skipped my five o'clock Bonine yesterday, but I'm not feeling any adverse effects yet. That said, I wobble about like everyone else, still. Gravity seems to come and go as it pleases, and when it comes, it's not always from directly below. I walk around like a drunk or like Jack Sparrow. Or is to walk one way the same as to walk the other? Oh well. It's only natural.
I had a French quiz this morning. I got up at four or five this morning and started studying, depending on what device you ask. Thankfully I got up on my own, my alarm on my phone wouldn't have gotten me up in time because I forgot to set it forward.
Studying in the piano bar, there wasn't a soul except there except me and the bar waitress. Not a creature was stirring, except for a couple girls on their way to the treadmills. Having time and space to make as much noise as you want is great; I got to rehearse some French out loud, strum my ukulele, and mess around with the piano, all before breakfast.
The test itself went easy; we were all stressing out over nothing. I guess it helps to hang around worry worts who are a little confused about French; it forces you to do work you otherwise wouldn't.
Not as many sun tanners today. The wind and rocky water has frightened them off. Though after any given amount of time outside, you end up tasting like salt. Anyway, they can get back to getting skin cancer later. I'm forever winning the tanning contest anyway, @Dan Levitas.
Random fact: You know what gets as much attention as my ukulele? My campusfood.com decal on my laptop. Just saying.
Tomorrow, we have an exam in the class everyone here takes, Global Studies. People are really stressing, but I find myself with my usual stupid sense of calm; if you got it you got it, if you don't you don't, as I used to, and still say. It's MUET 220 or MUSC 130. But with cathedrals and artwork instead of bongos. If all we need to know is facts about the ship, what kind of arches match what kind of architecture, and what sea are we traversing, I think I'm fine. (I am really cocky...)
Contact: afrancisco@semesteratsea.net
Thursday, June 23, 2011
C5- Ever Sweet but Strange
Today the seas were as calm as they have ever been. The arches of the waves were smoothed out as if flattened by a pizza maker, that maybe got lazy, or perhaps creative. No longer were there white crashes , but almost completely symmetrical arcs. I'll show you a picture when I have the chance; the sea was as nothing you've seen before.
As I woke up this morning and stared out the library's port-side window, I couldn't help but notice a rather large figure. I asked out loud, “Is that a mountain or a cloud?” To which some old lifelong learner replied that it was the Azores, a number of islands controlled by the Portuguese. Apparently they have a volcano or two. Cool. Or hot, rather. Either way, we're getting closer to the Strait...
Class for the most part the same routine. Finally we've reached conjugations in present tense in French class, and we talked about short and long term memory with Professor Morris, and people dozed off as Professor Butler went on and on about artifacts and atriums in Global Studies. But as I sat there while he differentiated Romanesque and Gothic churches and arches, my mind couldn't help but remember my two prospective architect friends that I haven't disowned back home, how probably over some of the same churches they slaved hours in the Bel Air lounge with notecards to remember each cathedral's name. Assuming whatever class that was didn't beat their love of buildings out of them by now, I think this trip would be a wonderful way to spend the summer for either of them, a just reward for their work. And yet here is the linguist ready to dimwittedly walk up historic bell towers like a fool. (That said, I love bell towers. remember Florence? No better triumph than twenty-some flights and having a panoramic view of a city...)
Tomorrow we have another quiz in Elementary French, testing our knowledge of conjugation of verbs. I ended up studying with a friend from class, only to be joined at our table by another Hispanic French student, an Elementary Spanish student who had better French than us, and a girl studying for Marine Biology. We threw around language terms like pudding at the food fight, laughingly asking the more fluent over whatever language we were studying.
Trying to fill up a vocabulary diary due in two days, I found the verb embarasser, which in French means to kiss. In saying Je embarasse mon fiancé (I probably didn't type that out right, to which I reply "C'est la vie"), my Hispanic friend turned to me with a confused look and asked, “You impregnated your fiancé?” Oh, the ridiculousness of false cognates never fails to entertain.
We adjourned studying to make our way to the union, the biggest lecture hall on the ship. (I use lecture hall loosely, it was more of a converted performance space and lounge.) Rather than finding seats, we found a crowd. A gigantic crowd. A crowd probably consisting of maybe half the student body on the ship. We were trying to reach a study session. Except the class we wanted to study for consisted of virtually everyone on board. So we gave up and went to our rooms. I didn't miss anything because they broadcast the lecture on television. Admittedly, it was better than watching Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo and Juliet.
So apparently either tomorrow or the next day we're docking to take on fuel somewhere on the Strait of Gibraltar. This is cool- Barcelona here we come...
Filipinos at Sea- The Overnight Bar Waitress
*****
It is two o'clock in the morning, yet back home it was only ten in the evening. The seas were as calm as they had been in days, no longer does Neptune rock us gently to sleep. Restless and frustrated, I left my room and made my way to the piano bar, the MV Explorer's equivalent to the 7-11. Climbing up three stories of silent, empty stairs usually filled by chatty Americans felt eerie and abnormal, yet calming at the same time.
The piano bar wasn't quite as empty. In one corner, a group of college girls were packing up, finished with a late night study session. At a table in the center, a white couple chatted the night away. The other side of the bar's lights were out. It was different, yet reminiscent of late hours back on campus.
There wasn't anyone visible behind the bar, though I assumed someone was in the open storage room. As I sat down, I passed the janitor vacuuming the carpets, and greeted him as I often do with the stewards, servers, and busboys, "Kumusta po." He then said hello, and yelled into the bar, "Customer!" and proceeded with his nightly work.
Through the door comes a Filipina, dressed in the typical waitress uniform with a light sweater. She stood at the average height of Filipino women I knew, not particularly tall but certainly not a nymph. She was somewhere between her mid-20s to mid-30s; she still had her looks, but a couple lines of time were visible.
I greet her the same as I did the janitor, and she asks me what I care to have. I glare at the wall of goods, filled with treats both salty and sweet, and decided on a cup of noodles. She heated up some water, poured it into the foam cup, fixes a fork on the brim, and puts it in front of me, as she proceeds with her nightly work.
She slowly, yet diligently cleans the cappuccino machine, the counter tops and the work area. At two in the morning, there is no rush. Her hands move in circular motion, but her facial expression doesn't, displaying some combination of fatigue and slight discontent.
As I slurp away my cup, a couple of college boys introduce themselves to her. Judging from how active and peppy they were at this time at night, I might have guessed that they were from the west coast. The guys turned their attention to me and ask my name. I promptly respond. They bid adieu, with more commons wording, and disappeared into the night, probably to bother some girl or something.
Now knowing my name, the waitress asked where I'm from, and where in the Philippines my parents are from. And thus she found company for an hour of her shift, and I found a window into the life of the crew on the boat.
***
The high concentration of Filipinos on the MV Explorer is not by sheer coincidence; rather, recruiting agencies find jobs for these Filipinos for the ship. This is actually an industry practice; the waitress herself has been on the even bigger cruises before, and is on her second contract with Semester At Sea. The Filipinos work under contract for these boats for seven or ten month periods. Once the contract is up, the Filipinos disembark, and find their way back to the homeland to see their family.
The waitress won't stand for being away from home for ten months; she would rather have time to see her growing six-year-old son, who lives with her parents in the homeland. Both she and her husband are up and abroad, her husband working on another bigger cruise line. She misses both her son and husband like anyone would, and hopes to be united with her family soon.
That said, there's no shortage of Filipino activity on the ship, albeit away from my own eyes. On a ship with this many Filipinos, accommodations are made to make everyone feel like home. The crew has their own private area. They have their own mess hall with food the Filipino chef picks, so often times they have kanin, sinigang, and chicken or pork adobo. Unfortunately, due to regulations, food could not be moved from their area to ours. I couldn't help but gawk when I hear of the homestyle food that I cannot enjoy.
They also find their own ways of passing the time. They have an area where they keep a drum set and a guitar. If you are or know a Filipino, you would understand how much music is a part of life. Karaoke parties are the norm, apparently, and any member of the crew could walk in, have a laugh, and sing some songs. Can you tell how jealous I am?
Of course, the ship is not a cruise for those who don't pay enough for it to be. Every crew member has to put in his share of work, sometimes at terrible hours, as shown, and like us, are cut off from the world for the most part, with the exception of email. A common practice in port is often an entire crowd of the crew would flock to the nearest place where they can get free wireless internet. In that respect they're not so different from the students.
After all the food talk, she did reveal one way I could get my hands on some adobo. Apparently Filipino kids on past voyages were able to simply talk to the chef to get him to cook adobo for them; I tried it later that day, and we'll see how far that goes. She advised that I might not find the food up to par to my own standards, since I cook adobo when I'm at home, but I answered that even mass produced adobo is good in and of itself.
Contact: afrancisco@semesteratsea.net
(Teresita)
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
C4- The Grind
Today, The skies were the cloudiest they've been this whole trip. The sea was dark and dreadful, reflecting the dreary atmosphere above, like something out of a Pirates movie whenever The Flying Dutchman sails onto the screen. In terms of workload and class time, we're actually in the eye of the storm, the halfway point of an academic barrage over a week long.
Every day is a consistent tear on our brains. Each of the three classes is an hour and fifteen minutes long, a typical length for a lecture that meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays back on campus. But we have lecture every single day we're on the boat, therefore in the past four days we've covered about two weeks of material.
What makes this an additional challenge is they're messing with our sleep schedules at the same time. When I woke up this morning, we were already three hours ahead of Baltimore. And then tonight we're losing an additional hour. I haven't adjusted very well, to be honest; the hours spent between my second and third classes consist primarily of nap time, although I do accomplish a lot of work and studying between the two. Considering I'm from the east coast, my adjustments are nothing. The Californians and the like are now hit with up to eight hours of time change. For those of them who flew in only the day before embarkation, people have a word- zombies.
Fortunately, by staying on the ball with readings, I have time for some fun activity. I spent the afternoon playing ukulele, singing along with a girl from UVA. It was a little rougher than past jam sessions since we were without internet. I had to figure out chords as I went, and she couldn't remember lyrics to some songs. But for all the places I've seen and things I've done, often it is moments like those I cherish the most- the most simplistic yet most uplifting. No better way to spend time than sharing a song. I found it reminiscent of late nights in the Bel Air Hall lounge with friends. I miss everyone. (But best believe I'm not homesick.)
Tonight made really clear the reality of how much we wanted to end the pain. We had a (not-so) little competition for the students; a Scavenger hunt, essentially. Teams of eight students had to run around the ship to get pieces of paper signed at checkpoints throughout the ship. The winner gets to jump off the ship first when we get to Barcelona- you can imagine the amount of interest that this garnered among everyone. Ship residents of all ages partook in the mayhem, and masses of people were flocking from one end of the ship to another. Alas, my group didn't win. But we tried and that's what counts. (Besides, my first field trip doesn't start until maybe noon I think, I'm in no hurry.)
Four more days until Barcelona, four more days until Barcelona, if only I could tap a pair of red shoes together and just be there...
Contact: afrancisco@semesteratsea.net
Monday, June 20, 2011
Dreaming of Land- Barcelona
Apparently today is only the fourth day on the ship, but already a lot of students have seemingly lost track of time. With our loaded days, people can't help but think that they have been here for weeks. In reality, with the amount of reading a lot of us have been assigned, we've probably done about a week's worth of work already. It's tiring, but not overwhelmingly overwhelming. I sleep better at night...
Surprisingly, I've been on top of my game in terms of work. I'm supposed to read three chapters in my psychology book before next week; I've already finished two. (I think I read more pages these past two days than in all of Fall 2010 semester.) Elementary French has been quite an adjustment in terms of reading; the vowels and diphthongs don't match too well with the four languages I've tried to learn in the past (Deutsch, Español, English, Tagalog), and the fact you neglect to pronounce the consonants at the end of words just makes me angry. Fortunately, I am a linguist fluent in IPA, and I have a dictionary, so I can make my way through, albeit with a little more work than the other languages. Curse you France, but like so many before me, I will conquer you as well!
I've been quietly cornered into really planning out my time in Barcelona. We have four days in port, but last month I had already signed up for two Field Trips through Semester At Sea. I wanted the other two days to explore the city on my own, but I had to lose one of those. Due to a scheduling conflict in Morocco, I have to take an additional faculty directed practicum (FDP) while in Barcelona. But with this city alone, I'm still sure my summer will be better than most of yours.
I know a lot of people are taking the opportunity to run around on their own with this country, whether they are finding their way to Madrid, the capital, or to Ibiza, which I hear is a riot. There are also smaller villages here and there to see. But These field programs will be worth it.
The first day I'm taking an afternoon tour of Barcelona. This will be followed by a flamenco performance. Having a day like this should give me plenty of time to see any famous architecture Barcelona might have (well, from the outside at least). It's always good to knock out the sightseeing in one day. Obviously you know how much I'm a sucker for ethnic dances. Hopefully I'm allowed to take pictures from the flamenco performance to share with you all, maybe sneak a video in.
The second day is free. I haven't planned out anything with anyone, but hopefully I can find someone to run around the city with independently, maybe check out places to eat, markets to shop, and souvenirs to haggle. I know I'm not gonna spend (too much) money though, gotta work within the budget.
The third day is going to be epic. I'm taking a tour of Camp Nou, home of the EUFA Champion's League Champs FC Barcelona. They also apparently have a museum; will I see that trophy? Hopefully there's a gift shop too so I can get a Lionel Messi jersey. That would top off everything. Apparently there's also an FC Barcelona Museum. There should be even more trophies to gawk at!
I have to sit through the FDP on the boat with Doctors Without Borders on the last day. It would be cool if I was trying to be a doctor, but alas, I am but a linguist. I could have used the extra day for some personal experience, but I think one independent day should suffice.
Alright, tonight I'm attending an Esperanto seminar (*cough* Austin Wood *cough*). Maybe I'll learn some useful phrases. Then I'll watch Inception then lose an hour of sleep, ugh. I'll write more tomorrow.
Contact: afrancisco@semesteratsea.net (Really, I don't mind conversation. Talk to me.)
Sunday, June 19, 2011
C1- By the Numbers
74- percentage of the passengers that are female. Mind boggling, right? Though I shouldn't be surprised by the statistic. A female friend of mine I met at Señor Frog's (Adrian meets people at bars?!) signed me up to be part of her Amazing Race team (I don't know, it's some sort of activity we're doing on Wednesday), and out of 8 people, I'm the only guy. That said, I feel like I'm meeting women left and right, and having dinner with a different set every evening, and unfortunately their names are flying by me, and women wave hello and a quarter of the time I have no idea who they are to begin with. But who knows what will happen? There's a lot of fish in the sea. A whole lot of fish. And somehow this ship has caught some of the finest. Gotta enjoy it.
One more thing, actual fish for dinner isn't bad. Doesn't look nearly as scary as it does at the UMD diner.
65- percentage of the crew that is Filipino. Again, their presence on the ship is ever prevalent, whether I greet my steward cleaning the cabin, the bartenders at the outdoor grill or the piano bar, the busboys in the Main Dining Room (Sidenote: If you decide to join an SAS voyage, always eat at the Main Dining. It's much less crowded than the Garden Lounge, it's much quieter, and the busboys are more than happy to carry out a conversation.) They are a friendly bunch and I'm meeting more of them each day. Safe to say, I feel right at home.
While playing basketball in the evening, I had a brief chat with a bartender. Apparently there's a league among the crew that play basketball. It's made of the ship's five departments, and there's a cash prize for the league winner. When I commented that Filipinos love basketball, he elaborated that we're not very tall, but we can jump. Point taken. We also briefly chatted about the PBA basketball, and I mentioned I knew of the Alaska Aces from reading about them (in the book "Pacific Rims." I have a copy sitting in the kitchen. Great funny sports read. Also, side note, I want an Aces jersey. ) I then proceeded to whoop the white boys. See below. But anyway, hopefully I can catch the crew in the act of playing on of their league games. It would be a priceless addition to the blog. (This blog could become an interesting journalistic study on Filipinos on the ship... we'll see how far I get.)
26- percentage of guys on the ship. They range from Jersey shore too-much-time-in-the-gym sized, to high school quarterback why-isn't-he-playing-NCAA size, to just plain gigantic gigantic, to super scrawny. It isn't too racially diverse, I can count the number of Asian males I've seen with two hands, but there are a number of black and Hispanic students to round out the roster. It's easy to dislike them from simply their looks, after being taught to dislike breaus these past two years. But one way or another, some have earned my respect.
Side note, I also met a dude from Olney. Small boat.
3- Number of clubs I signed up to join today. I signed up to join a Musician's Group, a Dancer's Group, and Intramural Sports. Knowing the boat, there will be ample opportunities to meet people through these groups. Who knows? Maybe by the time I get home I'll have enough hip hop understanding to join FCA Modern in the fall or spring. We'll see how it all pans out.
1- Spaniard I had dinner with. He's a student from Barcelona. We met last night at this book discussion everyone had to attend, where we talked about the importance of cities in human society, and their rises and falls. Thank goodness we didn't talk about the book tonight, because I'm done dealing with that material.
As a linguist, I enjoyed our conversation. I asked him about the uses of Catalan and Spanish in Barcelona, and he explained that it was based on what family you're from that. Somewhat vague, but I hope to dissect the divide while I'm there. He also enlightened us a bit in terms of traveling within the city, and what places we could go. He seemed a little intimidated, probably because he felt a linguistic divide, but the girls around us were very attentive and listened to what he had to say. He seemed like a good guy. Maybe the conquistadors aren't so bad after all, or well, some of them. Or maybe the actual conquistadors were from Madrid, explaining why the world should hate their soccer team? Eh, doubt it.
2- Games of basketball played in the afternoon (2v2, and 4v4 full court). 2v2 was a very chill game, though I felt like I could improve my finishing (though the shabby backboard doesn't help my cause). The 4v4 was exhausting, we set up a (much shabbier) rim on the other side of the court. Most of the guys were my size or slightly bigger, and also just as quick, so I couldn't pull a fast one on them and drive left and drop 5 points like I did the first day.
1- Game of Knockout (the basketball variant) that I won today. I hadn't played that since I was at Edison Elementary, and back then, I sucked. Not to say I didn't stink it up when I played the three or four other games tonight. I took great delight in showboating around the white boys, saying "Ako ay Pilipino! We play basketball!" It may have also helped that I was trying to impress the Filipino workers observing that one game.
It's only been 3 days on the ship, but I feel like I've been here for at least two weeks. I'm definitely getting my time's worth of activities here.
Oh, and happy Father's Day!
C1- The Actual First Day
Twitter style post.
0700- I woke up, took a quick shower, and put on some clothes.
0730- I went to breakfast in the main dining room. I ate with some acquaintances, and met someone from my French class.
0800- Bonjour. Je m'appelle Adrian. Comment vous appelez vous? (correct me if that's wrong, I'm super clueless still. This isn't Spanish or German)
0920- Psychology of Human Learning and Memory. It doesn't seem that hard, though I have a lot of reading. I'll get started on that soon.
1030- Went to work out. Lots of breus (Beau Friedman's definition of "bros") working out.
1100- Apparently you have to sign up to use the treadmills. And there's a long sign up sheet. That's a drag.
1200- Talked to the Filipina bartender at the Piano bar. She told me my eyes looked Chinese. I'm sad.
1335- I'll have class :P.
Email me!
afrancisco@semesteratsea.net
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Leaning and Rocking
So this is the first full day everyone will be on the ship while it is moving. And things have changed since we left dry land. No longer does our cabin window show the dock and Bay Street behind it, but rather a beautiful, passing, yet turbulent ocean going by us. Such is life, but that's why I'm here, right? But the other changes around us, while certainly not as big as the Atlantic, are clear and noticeable.
Compared to how calm it was right after we left port, the water the MV Explorer has been more rocky. Not quite the scissor lift in 30-60, but everybody is swaying back and forth much more than normal. Most people I've seen are taking in stride, but probably 30 minutes ago I saw some poor girl leap to the side of a trash can in order to puke. The leap was impressive; the reason was saddening. As for me, I'm taking Bonine everyday at about 1600-1700 hours- even if I do acquire full sea legs, I'd rather be safe than sorry.
We spent the entire day today sitting in the Union Room listening to deans essentially go over the entire Voyager's Handbook. It essentially was taking all the boring parts of the first two weeks of freshman year and stuffing them down our throat for maybe six hours, with breaks. It was absolute torture to stay awake. As we were cradled by the waves and serenaded with boring warning jargon, peoples eyes got heavier and heavier. Many succumbed to it all and fell asleep.
But now it's dinner time, and I'm hungry. Hopefully I'll play basketball later, maybe.
Again, if you want/need to talk to me, want to let me know if something happened, need to confess your undying love for me, etc., etc., just send me an email at afrancisco@semesteratsea.net.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Swear like a (Filipino) Sailor
So I turned in my passport and got onto the boat today, and traversed the labyrinth that was the MV Explorer. I really expected to be seeing only white people, with few exceptions to the rule, both among the students and the staff of the boat (I'm completely right about the students though, let's be real). But as you walk around the halls, I notice a lot of people with skin colors between. Then I hear their accent. And then I hear their Tagalog. Awesome.
There seems to be a whole lot of Filipino people on the ship. Just downstairs from the library where I'm writing are some Filipino women manning a desk. As people moved in, stewards were given directions and telling jokes to one another in Tagalog. In one room, two Filipinos were fixing some leak. And in the cafeterias, Filipinos are the busboys and managers.
I am absolutely confused as to how so many of them got on this particular boat. Is this sheer coincidence? Was there some major recruitment from the Philippines a couple years ago? I also am curious of Filipinos at sea- is sailing something a lot of Filipinos do? (aside from you know, teaching, nursing, doctoring (that's a verb, right?), programming, leading our troops in Persian Gulf Wars, etc.)
Either way, I'm already enjoying their company- about a fourth of all my conversations today have been with them. I met Crispen (awesome name! Who read Noli?) and Jess, who are our stewards, as well as some others. There's also Ismael who works in the cafeteria. Some of them recognized our common heritage (mostly because I was like "Kumusta po?" and "Nasaan ang restroom?"), but kid around with me at my lackluster Tagalog skills.
I did learn one word from them today. I'm not going to tell you what it is, hence the title. But hopefully by the end of all this I'll be able to hold a conversation back home. That or say naughty words.
You've Got Mail
Hello! I'm safe, on the ship, and trying to figure out if I can post to my blog via email! Someone please send me an email at afrancisco@semesteratsea.net (cough Nikki cough) to see if all of this works yet! I'll be sharing my thoughts through this, but I can't share my photos until I'm in port, otherwise I'd pay a lot of money. Hopefully you don't mind too much. This is it for now!
Also, send me your email to that same email address if you want to keep in contact! Email is free!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
The Bahamas- Bay Street (More Pics After the Jump)
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Travel Day, In Pictures
Bahamas Day 1
Got up today at 4:15, left for BWI at 5, left for Cinci at 6:50, went to Atlanta after that, met a nice bunch of other SAS students while I was there,. All the SAS people I've had conversations with seem nice. That said, they're everywhere now and I haven't talked to all of them, which is fine. We waited forever to get the bags (island time I suppose), and then four of us took a cab to the Sheraton. Then I swam. All is good.
Just a gripe about the modernizations of check-in- Why did you get rid of checking in via people Delta? What's up with that? While I do vouch for the value of machine check-in, especially if you're not checking in baggage, but a good ten percent of us (including me) had to leave the baggage drop off line because we had to check in via machine first. Lame of Delta for not being very explicit about the process.
Strange thing- There's an ASL interpreter for the news on TV I'm watching. Odd, yet kinda cool.
Travel tips: Don't play tennis before traveling. My knees and ankles bothered me during all the flights, and in economy you have no room to stretch, so it kind of sucked for flying maybe 4-6 hours.
Pics to come (eventually).
And the adventure begins...
What does this all mean? I'm (assuming there are no delays) on a plane to Cincinnati. Dull, correct? But then in a couple hours I have a flight to Atlanta. Less boring right? But then I have a flight to Nassau! You know what that means? Semester at Sea!
I'll be spending a couple days in Nassau, Bahamas until we board the ship on June 17. From there, it'll be sixty days of traveling on the MV Explorer, and checking out Europe! Pictures to come!
P.S. I've pre-written posts to tell you when I land somewhere! So keep up!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Roscoe Nix Elementary Asian Heritage Celebration Part 6- Wushu
And we're back to our regularly scheduled cultural photos after a couple days of laziness and racquet sports! We have a couple more pics from the Roscoe Nix Show- we're moving on to Wushu! Wushu is a form of martial and performance arts coming from Taiwan, and it deals with awesome looking weapons!
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Mike Keale at Lake Anne Plaza- Mike Keale (with video!)
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Mike Keale at Lake Anne Plaza- Food at Cafe Montmartre
I find it kind of funny that the first three real posts here were about food, but then almost a full week of dance and performance went by. So let's switch it up, and talk about food!
Friday, June 3, 2011
Mike Keale at Lake Anne Plaza- Lelehuna (Gordon and Debi Velasco)
If you didn't know, (and who are you if you don't know?) I have a huge infatuation with Hawaiian (and to a certain extent, general Polynesian) culture. Lilo and Stitch is my favorite movie. The ukulele is my favorite instrument. Almost every time I order a D.P. Dough calzone, it has to be of the Maui Wowi variety. I think I love Hawaii, or the concept of it, more than just about anything. And I've never been, so it's definitely on my to-do list. It also makes the forty-five minute drive out to Reston, Virginia to see Lelehuna and Mike Keale seem like nothing.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Asian Heritage Celebration IV(?) - JAI HO!! 2nd grade style
I'm running out of acts to talk about from this elementary school event. But I'm not done yet! Plenty of pictures to share and opinions to state! When you come into an elementary school for any event, you of course have to wonder, "What will the kids do? Sure, it's nice that they're inviting all these guests and showcasing their talents, but haven't the teachers made them do something?" And boy did these kids do something- they danced to the Jai Ho song from Slumdog Millionaire! (I think I have this movie on my hard drive... I have yet to see anything more than the credits because the credits are easily one of the most awesome things in the world...)
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Roscoe Nix Asian Heritage Celebration Part III- Bangladeshi Dancers
