Istanbul Day 2- Ukuleles Attract Turkish Merchants

It's just a fact of the Grand Bazaar, it's strange, but more on that later.\

 

So we got up, and went out, walked across the Golden Horn and tried to walk to a museum or two. But then we gave up on that. So we tried to walk to something else. Then people got hungry and then we ate. And then people decided to go to the Grand Bazaar. Then Brianna got sick and she, Hang, and Veronica left the group.

 

So here is Gabe, Victor, Victoria, Mohamed, and me, at the Bazaar without the girls. Can you say freedom?

 

Skill 1) Talk about another place to buy the same item

So first thing I bought was a mug. We passed by one store and Gabe inquired about it, and the owner said it cost twenty five lyra. I thought out loud, "Hey, we could've bought that at Galleta Tower for 10 lyra" and then proceeded to walk away. But then he dropped his price to ten. Now I have a new mug for mom!

 

Skill 2) Negotiate for bulk

After splitting off from Victor and Victoria to give them their typical alone time, ahem, we dropped by a t-shirt store, and all three of us were fixated on this glorious Turkish flag shirt. The merchant told us it would cost fifteen lyra, certainly a good price. But then we came together and convinced him to let us have three for 30 lyra, so ten per shirt. He agreed. Now we all have shirts!

 

The same skill also worked for this bracelet Mohamed wanted. The bracelet was marked six lyra (which if I kept thinking in euros is not a bad deal), but I told him he should try for less. But I looked at the bracelet and thought I'd like one too, so we made the offer for 2 for 10. Ca-ching, cut off a lyra.

 

Oh, we saw these embroidered little coin purses. The kid was selling them for two lyra, but we negotiated a five-for-five deal. Now I have presents for (some of) the women in my life back home!

 

There is no skill 3. I'm a guy- I don't buy much, be happy I have these skills. I was thinking of buying a scarf or five for people, but I know they would be cheaper in Morocco.

 

But by the time we were done, we still had two hours to roam the Bazaar until we head back. So we roamed. We found this quieter, less crowded area, and talked to the salesmen. One inquired about the ukulele on my back (Yes, I always have my ukulele on my back) and asked me to play. So I did. As I played, everywhere I turned I saw a salesman or a shopper smiling and looking at me. One of them even feinted putting money on the ground (I think the Turkish are a bit stingy towards buskers but that's no big deal.) When I was done, I was greeted with what might as well have been a grand applause. It was heartwarming- definitely one of my favorite moments on this voyage, definitely hard to beat. After having some Turkish tea (which isn't bad) I came across this Australian carpet seller who gave me her number (no not like that) telling me I should drop by the bazaar again tomorrow because she had musician friends coming. I was flattered, I probably won't but it's tempting.

 

As we walked in the streets close to the bazaar we were stopped by a Shawarma store owner who wanted to see me play the ukulele. So I did. The adjacent store owners came out of their shops to listen. The little kids working in the store looked at me in awe. I was then greeted with applause, and then shawarma (No, not for free, but we're in Turkey, it was cheap to begin with). Mohamed had our picture taken with the owner and workers of the store. Warm moment.

 

The Turkish people are very friendly. Sure they're trying to rip me off with overpriced kashmir, but you get to know them a bit and they're alright. ... But maybe drag around a fluent Arabic speaker with you, it helps a little to communicate.

 

Maybe this city isn't so bad after all.

Istanbul Day 1

Everyday is an endless stream of cigarettes and magazines.

 

Another day, another city I guess. We pulled into Istanbul. After breakfast, Brianna, Gabriel and I went up to Galleta Tower on a sheer whim. At the time it felt worth it, because we could see the entire city from the top (It just gets frustrating later though...).

 

We crossed the Golden Horn into the other side of the city and went into the mosque that was right there. Pardon me for not being able to romanticize, but quite simply, it was big, with a nice dome, and Arabic calligraphy all around the interior.

 

In the afternoon, Brianna and I walked Hang and Veronica back to that same mosque. The girls also took some time to shop... yeah... But then we blindly walked along the city. Maybe I really don't like not having a plan, but it irked me to no end. We eventually found ourselves in the park outside Topkapi palace(pronounced Top-Kap-Uh). We didn't go inside, however, which was lame. But we were treated to an interesting ice cream show. The ice cream here works like taffy, it's elastic and sticky, so the guy could do feats of whirling and twirling it. Brianna took a video, I'll see if she can put it up on youtube.

 

In the evening, we walked back to Galleta Tower with other friends. ... Except half of our group and I didn't go up. It left us frustrated and impatient to say the least. Though I did try to busk for the first time- no dice, no cash.

 

We then went to a cafe close to the train station (ah... trains... take me away...). I tried the turkish coffee there (Turk Kahvise). It's not bad. I would liken it to chunky espresso. There were bits of the coffee bean in it. That said... I'm definitely sticking to espresso.

 

The bright spot of the day was meeting the Moroccan interport student, Nihad. She is strikingly pretty while also having a great taste in music. Finally I have someone who shares my love for the Boulevard of Broken Songs.

 

I can't help but feel burned out with these cities. Maybe I'm just not as interested in mosques as I was cathedrals. Maybe I'm not digging the Istanbul atmosphere. Or maybe I need to make my way to Gallipoli to feel. But
I'm not digging Istanbul right now.

FW: Final Days In Varna

 

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From: Adrian Francisco at Semester at sea
Sent: Wed 7/27/2011 1:32 PM
To: ukuleleadrian.postgamereport@blogspot.com
Subject: Final Days In Varna

I can't put into words my self-hatred. In my pursuit, in my moment of running like the wind to track down a potential tag target, feeling as if I was home on some football field, I threw away, in a sense, a sense of freedom and independence to do whatever juke, spin, or jump I please. When I woke up the third day I couldn't walk without limping. It's gotten better since then, and I've learned to adjust my walking pattern to stay in stride, but gone for now are the moments of dashing ahead of the group, of leaping over cones and railings. And for certain, there's no way I can play in the upcoming basketball tournament on the ship. It may have only been a toe, but it's a pretty big toe between me and happiness. I feel useless.

On day 3, we decided to check out a local Archaeological Museum. From the exterior, it seemed promising, as if we were in for another long afternoon just as we were in Athens. I was wrong. Apparently the museum is under heavy construction, entire wings of the complex blocked off from visitors. Essentially, all we could access is about four rooms worth of icons, coins, and artifacts. We covered it in a minute fraction of the time we covered Athens. Safe to say, I was disappointed.

We decided to go to the mall called Grand Mall. I thought it was an okay idea, thinking "hey, it's just like hanging out with the dudes at the Mall in Columbia." I, however, didn't consider the facts that A) I wasn't going to the Mall in Columbia, and B) I wasn't hanging out with dudes, but three girls. Estoy loco y/o estupido, si.

But patience has its rewards. After we did a little shopping, we found a bakery selling a cake, and we were meaning to get one for Hang since her birthday was the first day in Varna (We raided her door with post-it notes and made a video with pics and videos of her to celebrate, for my own future reference). There was also a movie theater in the mall, and so we watched Bad Teacher. It was a pretty trashy movie, with no clear sense of morality (I should expect none from a pot-smoking lazy teacher played by Cameron Diaz) but I really enjoyed the LeBron James/Michael Jordan clip.

In the end, no matter what country you go to, a mall is a mall is a mall.

Day four, I woke up, ate breakfast, went back to bed. Woke up again, ate lunch, and then found Ginny who wanted to go the post office urgently to get stamps. Something happened back home and she really needed to send a letter. Fortunately, the post office was a relatively short walk away, close to the train station. We got confused talking to the older locals though, trying to figure out where in the complex the post office was. It's only relatively recently that Bulgarians began learning English in schools. But after walking into the bank and being redirected, Ginny got the postage stamps she needed. She then bought me a second lunch of bread topped with cheese and what I would analogize as pepperoni. I'll never be sure, but it tasted good all the same. Getting the food was also a bit of a cross-linguistic gesturing adventure, with her pointing at a calculator for us to give her change so that we could get a straight up five leva bill.

Otherwise, the day has been uneventful. The other girls went to the beach without me. I can't go in the water anymore because of the wound. I hate being a recovering cripple.

We have only two ports left, but I have developed on the third day a clever diguise/lie to tell people to make sure they don't think I'm American. Because quite simply, if they know you're American, the worst of them, the sketchy money exchangers and whatnot, will get in your face. I'm now telling people I'm a Filipino-born citizen. I only happen to be working on the MV Explorer, thanks to . If by chance I'm travelling with someone I can't lie about not being American, I belittle the relationship as to make me seem not American by saying I clean their room. I managed to keep the lie going with a taxi driver. I'm going to keep it in the back of my mind when talking to locals I think are trying to take advantage of me...

Alright, so tomorrow we have one Global Studies class, and then we're docking in Turkey the next day. Looking forward to exploring Byzantium/Constantinople/Turkey!

FW: Varna Day 1/Nessebar Day- toe is messed up, and Thank You Hang Vuong

I wrote this and the next post last week. I guess I sent them to a nonexistent email so here we go again.

---

From: Adrian Francisco at Semester at sea
Sent: Mon 7/25/2011 6:44 PM
To: ukuleleadrian.postgamerport@blogspot.com
Subject: Varna Day 1/Nessebar Day- toe is messed up, and Thank You Hang Vuong

More on that later.

 

The first day in Varna was pretty pedestrian. We got off the ship, made our way into town, and checked out the sites. The real highlight of the city is its main church, the Church of the Assumption fo the Virgin, certainly one of the grandest churches I've ever seen. (It's no Italian cathedral though...) Beautiful gold onion-shaped domes on the exterior and simple, yet powerful orthodox imagery on the interior.

 

We also checked out some markets. We walked past Billa, which is the biggest market place in town, with rows upon rows of different fruits and vegetables. There were also clothes shops. Safe to say I didn't buy anything.

 

In the evening, we went to a concert in the Roman Thermae. It was a percussion ensemble concert, not unlike those I've seen at River Hill. But it was dynamic in that they used placement of the instruments throughout the ancient bathhouse to mess with their sound. Unfortunately we showed up late and couldn't get a seat on the inside, we watched from outside.

 

Today, we tried going to Cape... I don't even know how to spell it. But when we got to the bus station we learned taht there was no way to get there. Improvising, we decided to go to Nessebar, which is south of Varna. It is an ancient town surrounded by walls and separated from the mainland by a bridge. Its buildings are quite old, and its medieval churches, while no longer functioning, and some turned into ruins, are pretty well preserved. We looked around the towns various shops and we went to the nearby beach, which to my dismay included a lot of seaweed. But no doubt we enjoyed ourselves.

 

Oh, about the toe. So after we got back and after we got dinner, we went to the beach to hang out. To put it in short, someone tapped me and said "Tag you're it." When I realized what was going on, I dashed toward the next person as if I was a linebacker tracking down a runningback. The difference between me and the regular linebacker is I was playing on a beach while not wearing shoes while in the dark. Also, there was a big rock. So next thing I know my toe is snagged on the rock and I tumbled into the sand. And then I agonized in pain, not from being hurt from the fall, but being warped by the tripping. My toe hurt. I thought I just stubbed it or somethign like that, but it became apparent that it was worse.

 

God bless Hang Vuong. Immediately after I turned onto my back, she came right over and looked at my toe, barked orders at our friends, and began doing everything from elevating my leg to cleaning the wound, to wrapping to wound, to applying pressure, to messaging my lower leg so that I wouldn't lose feeling there. She's already done so much for the group in terms of both planning what we were doing and talking with the locals, even when she has little to no knowledge of the languages except "Hello" and "Thank you". Next thing you know, she's playing emergency doctor. No words can express my gratitude. I am blessed to have such a friend on this voyage.

 

After Victor and Veronica walked me like crutches back to the ship, I got looked at by the infemery, and I finally got a good look at the wound. It's nasty.About half the skin on the bottom of the toe is peeled off. It's bleeding. The pain was not indicative of how severe it looks. (But believe me, I'll live.) The Filipino nurse on duty cleaned the wound properly, which stung like nothing else, and then wrapped it with Band-Aid and tape.

 

Now I'm going to bed.

Where Am I Today? (Episode 5)- TURKEY!!!

And now we're as far east as we're going to go, in Istanbul! Or was it Constantinople? Wait, I think it was! Again, this was another country I didn't plan very much for, but I know one thing- I'm gonna drink coffee! (pseudo-shout out to Amr, because he keeps telling me to get some)

Shout out to Efe Brock!

Where Am I Today? (Episode 4.5)- BULGARIA!!!

This county replaced Egypt on the itinerary because of the whole Mubarak deal at the beginning of the year. Not swag. But I know nothing about this country (whereas I used to write elaborate reports about Egypt) so I got stuff to learn here. That's what this voyage is about, right?

Pseudo-shout out to Amr. Out of consolation prize.

Athens Day 4, 5- More walking, more shopping, and maybe I'm on local TV?

So the typical gang met up for lunch at eleven thirty. After that we jumped on the bus out back to Ommonia to do a little shopping. The girls scoured the flea market and the shopping neighborhoods for various souvenirs and dresses. Brianna wanted one that made her look like a goddess. Meanwhile, Gabe and I looked for the existence of men's clothes. Really, It's a s if men don't wear things here in this country, because aside from souvenir t-shirts there was nothing but metro stuff. (For future reference, Alec was there also, but he left because he got bored.)

Meanwhile, the taxi strikes have continued past the forty-eight hour strike. (We were supposed to go out for dancing tonight, these circumstances forced us to, well, not go dancing.) We passed by the main square where protests were proceding, and found a reporter and a cameraman looking for an English speaking person to interview. Without really knowing what they wanted, I responded, and then they put me up for an interview. They asked if the taxi strike has dampened any of my plans or affected my stay in Greece in any way, I told them we had to adjust to it and use the metro and buses. I haven't had a chance to watch television, so I'll never know if I got on TV here. But one of my friends took a picture of me being interviewed so that's good.

Meanwhile, protests moved onto Ommonia, affecting our bus transit back to the ship. From the bus stop we could see a huge crowd of people walking and holding up a banner. We weren't sure whether we should try to find an alternative route back, but then we ran into this nice old lady (who I shall refer to in this as "Grandma") who helped us get back to the ship the first night. She guided us to another bus stop, and we were able to get back just fine. The girls organized a little thank you note card to give her; I could have hit the deck in my attempt to hand it to her. But you have to be surprised how people can help one another, even with language barriers.

Two string instruments and a football jersey later, I still have at least fifty euros left, maybe sixty. Say what?

That said, my Greek team is Olympiacos. (Spain was FC Barcelona , Italy was Bologna FC (Bologna wasn't very touristy so I didn't see any of those for sale), and I don't have one for Croatia, since Dubrovnik doesn't have a team.) I wouldn't wear Panathinaikos, the clover inspires anger (see Declan Sullivan). Also, conveniently Olympiacos is based in Piraeus.

Today I don't feel like doing anything, mostly because I have an FDP about gay pride in Athens at eleven, so it's not like I can go buy more jerseys or something (I would so be down though if I had time). One thing that was interesting is I met Nadia, the interport student from Bulgaria, who was happy to tell us about Varna, its beaches and attractions. Though they speak a Slavic language, the writing is in Cyrillic, so my head is about to explode. This is the first country where we all are going to be pretty much lost, except perhaps maybe a Bulgarian student. I'm looking forward to seeing where this will all take us, some will hate it, some will love it. I look forward to the challenge.

Athens Day 2 and 3- The Museum and Aegina

On the second day, we went back into town to cover any monument or landmark we didn’t hit already. As we walked out of the terminal toward the bus stop, the street side was swamped with cab upon cab. Thankfully, there were hardly any cab drivers to bother us (otherwise I would have gone ballistic) because it was the first day of a 48-hour strike. No more did I have to deal with in your face cab drivers, thank god.

So we went from attraction to attraction, we made our way to Monastiraki and then headed to the Central Market, where there was plenty of fish and meat to be sold. Going to the Central Market is not for the faint of heart, the meat is presented in its most grotesque form, from straight up dead pig to skinned baby sheep. If I wasn’t somewhat desensitized to it all, I might have turned vegetarian. Oh, and I spotted a Filipino couple looking at fish.

For lunch the girls had Souvlaki, because I had it yesterday and they wanted to try it, and I had Moussaka. It’s simply lasagna without pasta, and with eggplant. It’s not bad, it’s not healthy.

 From there, we passed city hall, and then landed in the Archaeological Museum. (Or was it the national history museum?) Either way, the place was filled with relics and artifacts from generations of ancient Greece. It took us three hours to traverse. I took three naps to get through. This place is huge and informational, but not exactly the most stimulating place in the world. We wondered how people could work there.

Somehow we made our way to a shopping district and Hang and Brianna looked at T-shirts and dresses. I quickly knocked off a couple souvenirs on my to-do list, and I looked for some ukulele strings. The first music store didn’t have ukulele strings, but the owner tried to get me to buy a ukulele for one hundred eighty euro. Are you crazy? Not even if it was straight koa! But after I did a little showing off, he offered it to me for only one hundred. As tempting as it sounds, and as much as I would like an acoustic uke on the boat that could help me go toe to toe with the devil a la Devil Went Down To Georgia, I knew I had not only one, but two with me. Also, one was on my back.

 Moving on to the third day, Brianna, Hang, Veronica, and I headed out to the ferry to see if we could get a ride to Aegina. Fortunately, as we got there, there was a speed boat headed in that direction for about 23.50 euro round trip. When we got there, we spent the day at the beach, relaxing in the water, trying to teach Hang how to swim, trying to teach Hang the ukulele, eating, and sunbathing/taking a nap. We found a living conch, which was cool. We also found a sea urchin, which was not cool, but thankfully nobody stepped on it. There were lots of fish in the water, but when more people came to the beach, they went away. Overall, it was a fun day.

For dinner, I had longunisa tosino (I can’t spell for the life of me, deal at this point). The head waiter Ronnie on the ship introduced me to the chef Dany, who was also Filipino, told him I was the one asking for adobo, and then the two quickly conversed in Tagalog, which was over my head still. A couple minutes later, Ronnie shows up with a plate and a couple pieces of tosino from the crew kitchen. Another waiter Darwin came a little later with some kanin. It tasted pretty good, though it was wasn’t fresh hot. It definitely tasted like home cooked food though. They’ve made me feel so at home here. Brianna scowled at me for getting my own ethnic food while she could not get hers. I love the crew.

 

Piraeus/Athens Day 1- I saw Hillary Clinton

I’ll say more on that later.

So I woke up at seven, and the ship was already parked at Piraeus, our not very scenic port. I like to think of it as Naples part two, except without a castle at port. It’s grimy. It’s gross looking. It’s not picturesque.

As you probably know more so than me, Greece is in a bit of a financially dilemma (then again so is Spain and Italy, but whatever.) It’s so bad that various parts of life our going on strike. You know what one of those are today? It’s the Metro (which has been the most awesome thing in any city.) That set the tone for the morning.

When we got out, we were immediately harassed by taxi drivers wanting to give us rides down to the Acropolis, but it would goes five euros per person, while the bus was anywhere from 1.20 to 1.40 euros. I was not going to deal with these guys, but they kept coming at my face. I got really really angry and I flipped out on one of them. Hang calmed me down though, or at least tried to, so I had to be careful not to flip out on her as well. She eventually found a place for us to buy tickets, and we jumped on what might as well have been a random bus at the time, and we headed off.

While on the way, we met a nice woman from Copenhagen, who had been travelling in Greece for about ten days prior. She told us about an island called Aegina, where they have nice beaches, and where she spends most of her time vacationing. Hang and I were enthusiastic to here that it is really cheap to go to- we might even go on Wendesday. We’ll see what happens.

When we got to the end of the line, which was very close to the Acropolis, we walked through this street which, while certainly not the flea market, was pretty darn cheap. There were Lionel Messi jerseys for ten euros. Get at us. Brianna bought a nice frilly hat for one euro. Que linda.

After walking through a square and traversing a few neighborhoods, we ended up at the Acropolis. We paid the student price of six euros to enter, which is pretty cheap, in relation to the full price of twelve euros. We passed by a few ampitheatres, went through the front gate, and next thing you know, we can see the Parthenon, except it had a crane in it. It’s pretty majestic despite wholesale damage. I’ll admit, it didn’t phase me as much as it did others, because I see the Lincoln memorial maybe every other month. But it’s still cool, and something that needs to be on everyone’s international bucket list.

Afterward, we ate lunch, and we all had kebap for three euro. It was genius, meat, fries, tomatoes, onions, and taziki sauce in a pita. How can you go wrong?

Afterward, we tried to go to the Temple of Zeus but it was closed. Someone told us it was because Sarkozy and Clinton were in town. I was very confused at the point, but I took the man’s word. We then took a picture in front of Hadrian’s arch. Why isn’t my name Hadrian? I would own so much stuff here in Greece and in Rome if I did. It sucks to be one letter away from being awesome.

Afterward, we checked out the Zappio and the area in front of it, and did some souvenir shopping. I didn’t buy anything yet.

Then we went to the new Acropolis Museum. It’s a museum dedicated to the Acropolis, with artifacts from the ancient city scattered throughout three floors. We ran into other people from Semester at Sea and found out Hillary Clinton was in town, and she was actually coming there. After meeting some friends on the top floor, and waiting just a little bit, next thing you know, there were a bunch of security guards guarding an isle. Then suddenly you see a really old blonde woman heavily guarded. Oh my god! A lot of people from Semester at Sea shook her hand, but my first priority was to take her picture. Unfortunately, the first picture I took went out of focus. I was so angry. Defeated, and bored by a press conference, we went back to the first floor. But then came the convoy into the gift shop. Victoria and a few other girls from Semester At Sea had their picture taken with her. But when she got out, I got the shot of my life. Yeah, that’s right. I’ll upload it later.

After exploring the Greek and Roman agoras, we did some more shopping, and then we looked for somewhere to eat. Following Hang, I got uneasy when the road looked more and more ghetto, with graffiti on all the walls as well as the buildings looking more run down. But next thing you know, we come by this nice, almost new looking restaurant with dance music playing, and the owner standing in front. I don’t know what Hang said to him, but next thing you know, he’s giving us a tour of his kitchen to show us how clean it is, and showing us how our food would be cooked if we ate there. He even let us taste his very lemony potatoes. Pretty much everyone was convinced that we should eat there.

For dinner, I had Souvlaki, with a side of fries, served with lemon, tomatoes, onions, pita, and taziki sauce. I think I love Greek food now, but I’m not gonna just settle for Marathon Deli anymore. The chicken was grilled, with peppers, like shish kebab. You can’t beat that already. But then you take the chicken off in bits, put them on a pita, put taziki on top, next thing you know, you’ve died and gone to heaven. God bless Hang.

Muhammad is playing Halo.

Tomorrow, we’ll hit the streets of Athens again.

Where Am I Today? (Episode 4) - GREECE!!!

We're in the country that brought you 300!!! And Clash of the Titans!!! And the Trojan Horse!!! ... maybe by extension the Trojan Man!!! I haven't planned anything out for this country, so I'm gonna wing it and see where the wind takes me? Thermopylae? Sparta?! Olympia? Who knows!

Shout out to Eric Krokos! (Though I'm sure he doesn't read this...)

Filipinos at Sea- The Assistant Housekeeper, and Croatian Immigration

So it was about two in the morning, I had just finished writing my french journals due the next day. Tired, but hungry, I decided that moment was a good time to get some rewarding Ramen. Manning the the bar tonight was Courtney, the tall Jamaican bartender. The Filipina had her shift moved to the crew bar, so I'll miss having our midnight conversations, though Courtney's a cool dude. (Yes, he's a dude) Walking by as I ate was the Assistant Housekeepr, who I've talked to previously, but probably haven't had a conversation with since Barcelona. So we enjoyed a little conversation.

We started talking about this and that, the idea of coming on a second voyage, and Boracay being within two hours of his house. He lives in the Visayas, so this is to be understood. I only came to understand the island beauty recently... through my Sports Illustrated subscription. But he then said how you could find a nice cheap restaurant along the coast of the island and then after dinner just walk a couple yards to enjoy the beach. Boracay sounds like complete paradise.

We then talked about Croatia, which I got to enjoy, but he and much of the crew did not. As I was told by H/V Utility Man 2, much of the crew has to pay a hefty 17 euro fee for a visa. What he elaborated to me though, was a bit puzzling, as it this visa fee only applied to certain people. Filipinos, Nepalese, Indian, South African, and Jamaicans were the ones who had to pay, to his recollection. Meanwhile, all the Europeans could get in fee free. I know that Europe has immigration problems as a whole, with a lot of Africans trying to make their way to the northern continent, and farther Eastern Europeans being a pain in the side for many city policemen with pickpockets and beggars (as I'm told and through my experiences), I wondered what they had to gain by keeping these more exotic, colored foreigners out. And it's not like even the Filipinos are invading, the only Filipinos I met while in port were from another cruise ship, and I'm pretty sure they are Filipino American by this point. Also what is interesting is that this fee didn't exist until a couple years ago- the Assistant Housekeeper got into Dubrovnik free back in 2007. I can only wonder what the Croatian government is thinking.

The crew has been appeased somewhat, as the second day in Dubrovnik they had a big party. Concurrent with that was a large basketball tournament, of which the winner won a sizable cash prize. (Which brings me to an earlier encounter with the crew, I dropped by the basketball court to watch them play a little, one bar man related to me, "This is just like in the Philippines, right?" to which I responded "Yeah, except you're not playing in tsinelas!" They got a laugh out of that.) The Explorer has its ways of keeping the crew happy.

He then related to me his experience in Greece. Being of the Euro, it's not going to be a cheap place to visit, but I'll have my ways of seeing what I needed to see. Apparently from the Acropolis, you get a beautiful view of the entirety of Athens, so I'll look forward to that. He did mention that there is a noticeable Filipino population within Greece, however it is scattered, and won't be as easy to find as Little Manila in San Francisco or something like that. He did say that there's a Filipino store the crew likes to frequent within our port of Piraeus. I might try to make my way there and take pictures, maybe have a bottle of San Miguel. (On a side note, there is a Spanish San Miguel and a Filipino San Miguel. I like the Spanish San Miguel a lot but I actually haven't drank any of the Filipino one...)



(Leo)

Dubrovnik Day 4, and C11

Well, I posted about Day 2 and 3 on day 4, I don't have to go too much in detail. I woke up, had breakfast, went back to bed, went to the Internet Cafe at 10 am, used facebook. Victoria dropped by and I walked with her to the Konzum, a supermarket, and we spent all the kuna she had left. She spent most of her money and toiletries and cosmetics. I'll admit it was a little unusual when she asked me which scent of body wash I liked more for. She ended up getting the more subtle scent. We then headed over to a pharmacy to buy contact lens cleaner. It was a short, but interesting walk.

We went back to the Explorer for lunch, and a new face joined us, Eva (watch that be spelled wrong) the Greek student. She was very nice, not bad looking at all, and was able to tell us what we should eat, and where we should go, and what we should avoid in Greece. Also, apparently the riots have slowed down some. I look forward to spending my time not on fire. Also, we need to watch out for both muggers and pickpockets while in Greece. Oy.

I went back to the cafe to use the internet some more. But more people were on it, so it was very slow and inconsistent, so uploading pictures consistently with speed was a no-go. Bored, with about sixteen kuna (about three bucks) left of Croatian money, I got a pint of beer. God is great, Ozujsko beer is good.

In the night I did work for the next day, a French journal talking about food, but not before playing Halo in the computer lab with some others. Really, it was the worst idea ever, it's like giving a crack addict crack. You're making him happy, but you're not helping him.

The sea was calm this morning with hardly any rocking.

This morning, I woke up and went to French class, and turned in my journals. Nothing spectacular. But when I got to Psychology, we discussed a very riveting issue of false memory. We watched a 60 Minutes video about how a woman falsely accused a black man for raping her. Eventually, with DNA testing, the man was freed, but the piece looked into the psychological complications regarding his conviction, how we try to match pictures as best we can to the perpetrator even if the perpetrator is not among the pictures shown. After two trials, the woman was utterly convinced that the man raped her, even as the eventually DNA proven perpetrator was in the room. Sad state of affairs. But now they make money touring the country telling their story and selling a book. Also, he got money from the state to by a house. It doesn't fix everything but that's nice.

I don't know where the day went. You procrastinate a bit, take a couple naps and suddenly the sun is gone. We're losing an hour of sleep tonight, I have an exam in the morning. So wish me luck.

Also, email was down all day. That sucked.

Dubrovnik Days 2 and 3- Water

Apparently, my parents might be thinking I'm dead now. It's a little harder to post when in a non-Italian port, because not only are you busy, but it's hard to get internet when you're not busy.

***
Sea water. Lake water. holy Water. Fountain water. Water is what my days have been about.

On the second day in Croatia, we, which includes me, Brianna, Victoria who is a Chinese student, Veronica, Victor, and Gabe, took a high speed ferry out to Mljet, an island about an hour away. When we got there, we bought a bus ticket into the island's national park. Immediately, we were in awe as we saw one of the most beautiful, clean, yet fairly large lakes we had ever seen. We proceeded to walk around it, while looking at the butterflies, avoiding cars, and playing ukulele. Then we realized the series of lakes were bigger than we thought, and then we hired a local to give us a ride to the opposite side of one lake. We continued walking until we got close to an island, which had an old church and a couple restaurants. From where we were, we swam a little bit, before Gabe swam to the island to get someone to fetch us. At the island, we checked out the church, and ate a meal. The meal was okay, but the waiter was terrible, and they charged us for sitting, and for water. It broke my heart when I saw the bill. And this church, I'll be real, it was no San Luca. Then we made our way home.

On the third day, I woke up at seven in the morning and ate breakfast. Unfortunately, nobody else was that crazy. Not wanting to waste a moment, I left the ship and walked to the Old City of Dubrovnik, which is encompassed by tall walls and towers. Walking through the north gate, I got a beautiful view down into the city. For the longest time, Dubrovnik was defined by these walls, and was able to repel invaders for centuries with them. Unfortunately, the wars of the 1990s made the walls obselete as invaders rained down tank shells from the top of the overlooking mountain. This city has seen its share of destruction and bloodshed. Even while repaired, where there was damage was evident, especially in the main cathedral, where most of the decorations have since been replaced.

By myself, I went to several recommended tourist spots, a monestary, four churches, and a couple of squares. I was very proud of myself for being able to navigate the city alone. Whenever I could though, I would drink from the fountains inside around outside the city. The water in Dubrovnik tasted wonderful, and people would cool off with and drink from these fountains without hesitation. A couple British dudes put it best, “I think I'm high off water.”

I then made my way toward the ship, and remembered there was a mall on my way back, so I went in. The air conditioning felt wonderful. Exploring, I found that there was a music shop in the mall. Unfortunately, they didn't have ukulele strings. I wanted to replace the ones on my dinky one that made it feel cheap. Moving on, they had a pricy athletic wear store, a pharmacy, a bar, some clothes stores, and a furniture store. Nothing spectacular.

Finally back to the ship, I ran into Brianna, Hang, and Victoria. They were headed back to the Old City. Tired, but not wanting to waste time at the ship, I went with them. (Which means I didn't get a ride on the lifeboat at all). Once there, I essentially gave them the tour, leading them to all the places I had already been, while they stopped often to look at the stores for hats and other souvenirs. I got a Croatia flag while shopping, as well, which came in handy as a flag for them to follow me with.

Once we were done, we went up to the mountain overlooking Dubrovnik. We got a beatiful view of the city, as well as a view of the Dalmation Mountains beyond it. There was also the remains of a military fort up there, that had been in use in 1812 up to the nineties.

Afterward, Hang, Brianna, and I went to get dinner. We found a nice, inexpensive restaurant to have salad, fish (chicken in my case), and white wine. I have to say, the wine was better than any I've had in the states. (granted, we buy cheap stuff in College Park...) Not a spectacular meal, but it was good.

We then tried to find a beach. When I say beach, don't think of sand, think of stones and pebbles, Dubrovnik has no sand beaches. After asking the information desk, and traversing the local houses, we settled upon this small mini beach to get our toes wet. In the distance, some people were diving off a concrete dock. That was cool to see.

On our way back up, we ran into Gabe, who was hungry after kayaking to an island and back, so we found a stand where he got a sandwich. While there, I tried the local beer, Ozujsko. While not as flavorful as the Spanish beer, it certainly was servicable, and I liked it much more than Heineken. God is great, beer is good.

We then found a cheap place to have a little ice cream. It wasn't nearly as good as any of the ice cream I had in Italy, but it was good all the same. I had both banana and lemon ice cream on my cone.

We then walked to the old harbor, which was just outside the city. As we walked through, you couldn't help but notice that the city was much more alive with music. In fact, the entire old town was as alive as Las Ramblas, with families walking their dogs and pushing their kids in strollers. There was even a band singing American music. Brianna made Hang and I dance a little bit. It was fun, albeit we didn't know what we were doing and it was a little awkward when she fell expecting me to catch her and bring her up. I caught her, but somewhat shocked that she tried that move, bringing her up took a minute.

When we got to the harbor, it was a pretty sight. We could see the city at night, the outside wall lit, and the moon shine above it all. The girls took time have their pictures taken, and then we headed back.

Dubrovnik Day 1- Rocky Beach, Cute Croatian Chicks

So like every time we enter port, I wake up, and look out the window to see a whole new world! Err, let's be more descript than that. The view from Dubrovnik is surprisingly gorgeous, it is the most beautiful port yet. No other port is defined by cute little houses built into beautiful mountains, and a glorious bridge on the starboard side. Forget buying our parents homes in the south of France, buy them homes in the south of Croatia- it's that good.

I was part of the first trip off the boat, which was going to visit a campus. I was expecting some picturesque campus not unlike Maryland- boy was I wrong. We were visiting a small college run by RIT in Dubrovnik, which had two majors and 500 students. It's smaller than HCC. It's tuition is cheap, its accreditation is great, but it's tiny. I would still send my kids here, though, this city is quiet, with no distractions, and it's really pretty and safe. Already it's somewhere on the “I might want to live here” list.

Brianna, Hang, Veronica, Gabe (one of the Bahamians), Javier (not the Barcelona one), and Eric (half Vietnamese dude), walked to a beach. Beaches here are not as picturesque as the Bahamas- they are rocky. They are really rocky. They are really really really rocky. And they have sea urchins. We think Brianna stepped in one, and the other girls had to perform surgery. Kind of awesome, but it kind of sucks.

After we all got out of the water, I played a few songs with the ukulele. Brianna and Hang (try to) make music videos where I play and they dance, I can't wait to see them uploaded. We did get applause from the locals, and got the attention a couple of cute girls to our left. I tried to talk to them, but they knew no English, and my Croatian is but a fragment of my Italian, which is a fragment of my Spanish, which is a fragment of my English. Lost cause. But they did ask to take my picture with them (as well as the Bahamian, I admit he has cool hair). (Don't throw the no pics or it didn't happen argument, I have witnesses) I'll keep my uke on me here, I know I won't be stabbed by locals.

Tomorrow I'm trying to go to some islands. We'll see how that goes!

The World In Pictures- Camp Nou

Where Am I Today? (Episode 3) - CROATIA!!!

We've moved onto our third country today! (Assuming nothing bad happened) I don't know a lick about this country! Hopefully I can make some time to see the Plitvice Lakes, which the other voyagers say are supposed to be gorgeous! Let's see what this country's got!

P.S. Halo Ana Nicolich! (You're half Croatian right? Though I doubt you'll read this...)

^^^ I thew "hello in Croatian" in Google and that's what I got- any reference to my high school habit is purely intentional...

C10- We're going to be on land again tomorrow?

Huh? We're on land tomorrow? Again? It feels weird, because, until the end, we're going to only have two days of class every time between ports, and then four days at most of the ports, and five in Casablanca.

It's hard to comprehend the fact that we've already visited two countries. Even though we've spent almost two weeks on European land this voyage, it all went by so fast, I have trouble believing it happened.

I really miss Italy. I miss the home-cooked meals, the stadiums and churches, the fireworks, and my cousins and other people I've met. If Italy was a goal in your life, Semester at Sea quite frankly does not do the trick for you. If you want to see it for a week, you might want to plan out a month's travel. Even though I've already been twice, I want to go back again already. And I didn't even see anything in Rome. Even with the likes of Pompeii off my bucket list, there is still so much I should have done, so, so much. No regrets for what I've done and the time I've spent, yet there is still that sense of longing to do the things I didn't.

Returning to ship food is a bit saddening. We're back to the same grind of beef, pork, and chicken, with the side of pasta, rice, and/or potatoes. It's the same thing for lunch and dinner. I'm already missing Memeth's cooking, I should have eaten more before I left (that said, I put on my jeans, and they're even looser than they were before I left home. I thought I would've gained weight or something. Now I feel guilty for not eating more, despite the fact that I ate so much.)

Classes went by as they usually do. French we had a quiz, which I didn't do very well on. I should have spent less time trying to pick up Italian and more time working on the language I'm trying to pass. Psychology was psychology, nothing more, nothing less. In Global Studies, we talked about a couple cool towns in Croatia, Zagreb, Split, and Dubrovnik, among others. The country has been historically very influenced by the likes of Venice and Rome, so I found that interesting.

We also learned about a bit of the Balkan Region's history of war. Apparently in the early 1990's, a lot of bloodshed was caused in the region. Crazy things such as mass rape, mass graves, concentration camps, and massacres were all the lecturer talked about the second half of the lecture, all caused by propaganda of nationalism and identity. For as much comfort as I get from understanding that I am part of countries and cultures, organizations and groups, it is saddening that the same concept could lead to so much suffering.

Fortunately, twenty years has passed since a lot of that bloodshed started, I would expect Croatia to be a lovely place with great sites to see, and beautiful mountains. Land ho!

Filipinos at Sea- A Bar Man (And Facts from H/K Utility Man 2)

So it was almost 2000 hours, and I was climbing up some stairs to the deck seven, where I was trying to get a better view of the upcoming Strait. We could already see bits of Sicily to our left. Up there, one of the bar workers was cleaning up the deck for the evening, putting away the sunbathing chairs for the night. He and I have seen each other before, and through talks with other crew members he knew I was Filipino. So pointing out at Sicily, he starts speaking really fast Tagalog, something about how we were close to Croatia. Obviously, you know me, I was lost.

He shared with me some details of a previous voyage. Apparently, there were past students who understood Tagalog, but never spoke it, so the crew purposely didn't speak Tagalog out in public at the beginning of the voyage. But by now, they knew everyone, so they could trust that whatever they were saying was going to not be understood or was going to be insignificant enough if overheard. I had to wonder what they could possibly be talking about that was worth eavesdropping over. Anyway, I guess they knew now who they could talk in front of.

On a related note, I spoke to H/K Utility Man 2 earlier, and caught up on how many Filipino students were on the ship. There's supposed to be a (relatively) big dude who's half Filipino. I had not met or seen anyone of such a distinction, so I just looked at him confused. And then he said "kumusta" to a girl who passed by us. She responded with a hello. Apparently she was Filipino, one parent from Laguna, and the other from Cavite. Up until that moment, I only knew she was Canadian- this did solve a mystery for me though, in terms of "What kind of Asian has that kind of last name?" Clearly I'm dense. I also knew of another girl who was a quarter Filipino. Moving on.

The bar man asked my age, twenty, then related to me that he had daughters that were about my age as well. They are now attending schools in Manila. He wishes that he could somehow get his daughters to enjoy the world as I get to. Then he went back to work, and left me to my thoughts, and the changing horizon.

I have to be very thankful for all the opportunities I am given on this voyage, and for being on this voyage in the first place. For as many Filipino Americans that may ever make it on the MV Explorer, there are millions who will never have the luxury of stepping away from the peninsula, let alone having a stable American life, going to college, and seeing the world.

(Rommel)

C9- Uh... My boring days are better than your best?

Yes, the title was pretty bragging. But wait, I have justifications.

So today was the first day of class almost two weeks. I woke up and enjoyed breakfast outside with the view of the ocean, joined by my friend and fellow French student Michelle. She was very worried about French class. Admittedly, I was a bit too, feeling like I forgot how to produce French while trying to figure out how to ask a girl out in Italian ("Volete andare al cinema?", admittedly not that hard, we're up to three!), but I kept a cool exterior as I helped her do the French homework for the day.

The day passed as usual, sat through French, sat through Psychology, ate food with the Bahamians, went to Global Studies, took a nap. Nothing spectacular.

When I woke up, I looked out the window and we were passing by a volcano. It wasn't very big, but it was really cool, because you could see smoke come out of the top. Apparently it's called Mt. Stromboli or something. I would've hoped it would be more epically named.

While I was sitting down with the Bahamians as they badgered one another, all the white people gathered around one area of the boat. Confused, we walked over, only to find dolphins! Dolphins! DOLPHINS! They were jumping in and out of the waves the boat was making. You don't understand how shocked and happy I was to see them, because I had been missing them several times before. Dreams do come true, ladies and gentlemen. I have pictures to prove it, too!

Then we got closer to the Straits of Messina, the area between the Italian peninsula and Sicily. Straits make everyone excited. Conveniently, the sunset went down, and I had my camera. And now my bucket list is lighter...

Also, we watched Harry Potter.

Ending the day with a Filipinos At Sea story.

afrancisco@semesteratsea.net

C9- By The Numbers

So we're all back on the ship, somehow. We had classes this morning, which was a bit of a drag. I do get to see the fellow students and crew that I've missed, though, that's good. (Actually enjoying eavesdropping on some gossip about a crew ping pong tournament...) Here's one way to recap what I've done.

1- The number of ships I've stayed on. (Eh, what else?)
2- The number of countries I've been to in Europe on this trip.
3- The number of cities I stayed in in Italy (Napoli, Bologna, Firenze)
3- The number of stadiums I've visited
4- The number of churches I went inside in Italy. (I think)
5- The number of girls that might have traveled with me in Italy if I had told them what I was planning. (Ay na ko. Though glad I didn't take them, imagine trying to sleep in that closet with all of them...)
6- The number of strings on a guitar. (Been giving lessons)
7- The number of days I spent in Italy.
8- The number of boxers I have drying in my bathroom after hand washing. (Boy did that number take forever.)
9- The number of train stations I've been to (Napoli Centrale, Bologna Centrale, Firenze Rifretti, Firenze SMN, Roma Termini, Civitavecchia, Prato, Bologna San Rufrillo, Pisa)
10- The number on the back of the Lionel Messi jersey I got from Barcelona
11- The number of different train rides I took in Italy. (1 to Bologna, 3 each way for Pisa, 2 to Florence, 2 to Civitavecchia)

Firenze Day 2 and 3, and Thank Yous

        Corresponding to July 7 and 8, 2011, yet my memory isn't nearly as vivid. And I'm not putting any particular effort into the eloquence of this post. I probably got burned out after writing Day 1, and traveling, and giving guitar/ukulele lessons when I got back to the ship.

        I woke up at 7 am on the second day, simply out of regularity. I wasn't the first person awake, other people were too. Jessica (oh my god watch even this name be wrong), Tita Met's teenage(?) daughter, made me a cup of espresso. (I just have to say, I thought she was very, very pretty. Moving on with my life...) And so was Alex Aquino (… I'm so confused by my own family tree, I'm just not going to try to figure out theirs. He's an old dude. There.) So after a breakfast of eggs, hot dog, and kanin, I watched a soccer replay until Dave and Deo arrived.
        When they did come, we made our way to a metro stop, and into the historical center of town. We walked past a number of churches, including the duomo. But outside the duomo was an immensely ridiculous line that went all the way to behind the church- and this church is amazing gigantic. I don't know how anyone could stand in line for so long, thank goodness I found other churches to visit earlier in the trip. We also passed by a number of shops selling clothes and souvenirs- I left my money at home, thank god. So we walked and walked and walked, anf then found... the Ferrari store. It was really expensive there, but the picture with the Schumacher F1 replica was free, so I'm glad I got that.
        Just something to laugh at, Deo found a particular fascination with a living statue, so he payed a couple cents to the dude. And then he moved and waved at him. Cool.
        It seemed like the two were in a bit of a rush, and didn't really ask me what exactly I wanted to see. (Hello? The BELLTOWER? It's only of my top ten favorite spots on the planet...) But I had no goals, missing the bell tower made little difference. Besides, it gives me reason to come back.
        Uh, Yeah. It was that kind of a day. This post is of ridiculously bad quality, but deal.
        We also went to a doctor's appointment. Not going to elaborate.
        When we got back to Tita Met's, a lot more people were there. Today they were celebrating the birthday of one of the Filipino Italian girls. The women talked, the kids watched television and played games, the old men (and I?) drank and smoked (No, I didn't smoke.), and there was cake. And then everyone played cards. There must've been four or five games going on at once, these people really liked cards. I'm more for karaoke though, and that wasn't brought out...
        Next morning, I woke up, had a cup of espresso, and Deo and Tita Edith came. Tita Edith gave me a very long hug, and we said our goodbyes. Eventually Dave came by, and we waved goodbye to the in-laws and made our way to Firenze RMN. When we got there, I dropped by the electronic ticket machine to pick up my tickets to Rome, and ultimately Civitavecchia. With some time left, we went across the street to buy shoes. I bought a pair of Nikes that, if you didn't know better, might've thought were Converse All-Stars. I decided I just needed walking shoes, nothing else, and they were on sale, so these would suffice. (though watch me tear them up playing basketball...) So then I shook Deo and Dave's hands, told them to drop by America someday, and left.
        I got to Roma Termini. I saw a couple other people from Semester At Sea. I ate McDonald's. Moving on.
        We got to Civitavecchia, and stuffed a cab with eight people from Semester At Sea- felt kind of like Senor Frog's all over again. I checked in.

Thank Yous

        Thank you Tito Percy, Tita Gloria, and Benadetta for hosting me and for the first half of the trip. Also, thank you to Tito Ronnie, Memeth, Roy and Ron, and Andro for spending time with me. Also, thank you Clarissa and everyone in Pisa for showing me around, lunch, and a couple gray hairs. I had so much more fun in Bologna and Pisa than I thought I would, and spending time with you all really made my trip what it was.  Also, I know I won't die of starvation until after I get back to the United States, so thank you for that.
        Thank you Tita Edith, Tito Danny, Deo, and Dave for showing me around Florence. I know I didn't plan out my stay with you all very well, but I'm so glad that you guys made time to see me. Hope to see you all again, maybe next time with everyone else.
        Special thanks to Tita Met, Alex Aquino, Jessica, Samantha, and everyone I met in that Florence apartment. I know I'm not blood-related to you all, but you took me in and treated me as one of your own. Your hospitality was top notch, and I had a great time at your place and talking with all of you and playing for you. I am in your debt.
        For all of you, feel free to come by to the United States if you can get visas (… in 3-5 years when I have my own place or something, or maybe just ask my mom?) and I'll be glad to return the favor to any of you.

Final notes:

*Just to warn you, if someone calls me an American-Negro again or if I hear that phrase around me I'm going to go berserk. (Again, nothing against black people. Just a self-identity issue.) I don't care how many years go by or how long my beard is or how buff I am or how much tan I get any particular year. I'm Filipino, body and blood and all. End of conversation.
*That said, I'm really really tan. I pull up my my sleeve and it's like looking at black and white.
*I hate 1 euro and 2 euro coins. That's more a product of Barcelona than Italy, but just saying. Currency of actual value should be paper.
*Don't use a hairdryer to blow dry polyester underwear. It's not pretty. I was late getting back to get my clothes washed, so I'm washing my clothes by hand.
*I'm going to miss facebook. Again. I don't know if I'll be able to upload anything in Croatia.

Firenze Day 1- Boy do I write a lot...

This is for July 6, 2011-

        So after transferring on another train at Prato, I made my way to Firenze, err Florence. From the view getting off the train, the station didn't look too different from when I was there last, albeit it smelled a little more like tobacco smoke that day. I went to stand in front of the nearby McDonald's, because my aunt told me to meet my younger cousins, David and Deo, there. I had not seen either of them in seven years, since the last time I was in the Philippines. I saw the pair, a relatively short, scrawny Filipino boy talking in Tagalog to a taller, older counterpart. I walked right past them, but they didn't recognize me, (granted I'm bigger and darker than I was before) so I had to call out their names. They had no idea what I look like, so it's all good.
        After eating lunch at McDonald's, I followed them on the bus to what appeared to be a random street. Walking close to some construction, in front of a yellow apartment building, Deo rang a doorbell for a seemingly nonexistent door. We heard a voice, Deo responded back, and Deo pushed the wall inward to reveal a basement apartment. This was the apartment of a number of their relatives on their father Tito Danny's side, essentially my in-laws.
        There, we met Tita Met, as well as a whole slew of the pairs' other cousins, aunts, uncles, and elderly relatives. There were Filipino Italian children watching television. A number of women talked in the kitchen. Through the entire apartment you heard conversations in both Italian and Tagalog, and English if someone was trying to talk to me. It was a small, yet bustling place.
        It was at this time Tita Edith called us up. She told me she didn't have room at her place for another person, and that she would put me up in the hotel, but when Tita Met overheard the conversation, she offered me a bed for the duration of my stay. Not having a particular need for hotel amenities, and wanting a more integrated local experience anyway, I took her up on the offer.
        I then followed Deo and David on a bus to Fiesole (watch that be spelled wrong). This was a small town outside Florence, up on a mountain. When we got there, I couldn't help but feel something strange was going on- there were men in tights waving around flags. No, I was not watching a marching band competition, but I was witnessing what was part of a town festival. Towns in Italy have patron saints, and once a year, would throw a large festival for them. I don't know who is the patron saint of Fiesole, but that wasn't going to stop me from enjoying the festival. Next thing we saw was a parade of the town's clergymen disembark from the square in a parade, followed by a marching band, and the colorful men in tights, toward the main church of town... which was right behind us. It wasn't a terribly long parade, but it was cool. They had a bit of ceremony at the front of the church, before I assumed that they would have mass. My cousins, Protestants, didn't care too much, so we moved on.
        We climbed what was a very steep hill, up to the top of the mountain. From there, we got an amazing view, and we could see the duomo, the stadium, and the city in its entirety. It reminded me of a conversation I had with another Semester At Sea girl who, during high school, snuck out and spent an evening walking up a hill to see the sun rise over the entire city. But apparently we weren't the only ones who knew about this spot, a number of people came up and down. I ran into an Italian man giving two Australians and a British woman a tour. We chatted briefly and they wished me luck on my travels. A really tired bicyclist also came up. I took a picture of him with his iPhone, a fitting reward of a profile picture for making his way up the entire mountain. There were also a couple couples who took their time overlooking the city, as well as doing what couples do, except what should be done behind closed doors, thank goodness. I was happy the pairs could share the view together, though it gave me a moment to reflect on what I was (not) doing with my life. There was also a convent up there, but the brothers were down by the church, not that I would make a big deal about seeing monks in their natural environment or anything.
        Hungry, we went back down to the festival, where there were numerous stands set up, selling food, clothes, candy, souvenirs, and some other odd things (spatulas?). My cousins bought donuts and Coca-cola from one of the stands, and as we walked back to the spot I got to take a close look at some of the goods. There were a couple of stands selling what looked like American memorabilia, t-shirts with the Star-Spangled Banner or the bald eagle, and bracelets that they claimed were American Indian. Looking at them, I couldn't help but not be convinced- I knew not of any American Indian culture skilled in metalwork, except maybe the long-gone Aztecs. Besides, one of the symbols had the yin-yang- Though I won't be blunt as to say it was fake, it created reasonable doubt. Anyway, if I wanted American Indian souvenirs, I would just go to the Smithsonian Museum of the American Indian (still my favorite museum).
        Deo and I walked back into town to find Tita Edith, who just got off work. It was a very awkward meeting to say the least- rather than going for a hug like I expected her to, she poked at my arms in astonishment. Honestly, they're not that big, and I've been lackadaisical when it comes to working out, but perhaps they were uncharacteristically larger than the average Filipinos. Waiting in the square for fireworks, she then showed us pictures from the last time I was in town- my arms were much thinner back then, I guess. I did, however, have a camera around my neck in a number of pictures. Some things change, others don't.
        A little later, the fireworks started. A single tiny hot air balloon rose up into the sky and the entire town went dimmed their lights and the people went quiet. And then the sky lit up with reds and blues. What was particularly notable about this firework performance was that they integrated the architecture of the square into it. They set smoke off in the buildings in front of us, and the bell tower behind us, and lit the houses in different colors so that they seemed to come on fire. I never would've thought to have done that.
        After the show, we met up with Tito Danny, who just got off work, and made our way back to Tita Met's. We then had dinner, which consisted of rice and fried chicken. Also, whiskey, Heineken, and brandy were put into my hands to drink, I find it funny I've done more drinking with family abroad than friends. The older people asked me questions about my life in the states and my family. Then I heard the words “American-Negro”- until I told them my mother was Filipino, they thought I might have been half-black or something. Granted, I am as tan as I've ever been, I'm as buff as I've ever been, and my hair is really short, and my beard is really long, and but I couldn't help but be shocked, and perhaps a little offended (not that there's anything wrong with African Americans, their comment just feeds into my identity crisis). I didn't know being Filipino meant keeping a certain look.
        Tita Edith then put me up to play ukulele for them, since I had one in my duffel. I played them a couple pop tunes, Bruno Mars, and Eminem. This one little Filipino Italian girl, Samantha, got upset when I was playing “Love The Way You Lie.” It was a song she really liked I guess. The girl sang along a little bit too, with a little coaxing from the elders. Though I have to say, the odd thing about this household is it doesn't have a guitar, usually that's a staple in a Filipino's house one way or another.
        After people dispersed and called it a night, I went to bed. I would like to describe my rooming situation as somewhere between Bel Air Hall and Harry Potter's bedroom during the first book prior to all the hoopla. It was a room underneath a staircase, though I had more than enough headroom for all the floor space. It was hot, and they made sure I knew it was going to be. I ended up not getting underneath the sheets the first night, and using the fan the second night. I shared the room with what must have been at least a dozen luggages, some laundry baskets, and some shelves. But it was more than livable. And I slept well. (Though maybe my legs would say otherwise, because I have mosquito bites all over...)

Day 1 took two pages, single-spaced in OpenOffice/Microsoft Word. Why do people fear writing essays?

"He thinks of Colorado, and the girl he left behind him."

Today is (supposed to be) July 7, 2011. A year ago to this day, I drove into Baltimore and picked up my Certificate of Citizenship. After waddling off the plane in November of 1995, and almost fifteen years of living in the United States, I could finally officially call myself an American. How am I spending my anniversary? I think I'm in Italy today.

Not to say I don't love America. America is great! There's nothing like fall weekends with American football, afternoons in the spring and summer at the baseball stadiums, and Kentucky fried chicken (I have yet to try that behemoth they make... I forget what it's called... I think it's death?). It's the nation of Google and Facebook! It's also the only country I can really call home. I can sing with pride "I am Proud to be an American."

So have a pint of Yuengling or Sam Adams in my honor today, won't ya?

Bologna Days 1.5, 2, and 4- My Mother's Side

After the previously chronicled Bologna Day 1 morning, I found myself at Tito Percy's. He's a cousin of my mother, for those who don't know. He works in Bologna and lives with his wife and daughter, Benedetta, in a comfortable apartment. They were gracious enough to lend me a room- I am eternally in their debt, unless they come to the United States. (Please do!)

Memeth, Roy, Ronelle, and Benedetta.

After spending the afternoon eating lunch (I sat there eating for a while), watching television, and taking a nap (they do siestas too, kind of), I met Tito Ronnie, Percy's brother, as well as Roy, one of Ronnie's two toddler twin sons. The little boy was very shy around me, though that must to be expected when seeing a very imposing looking stranger.

From there we walked to the basement of a local church, where a party was being held for a Filipino man's 21^st birthday. Seeing the buffet table was a sight for sore eyes- simple steamed rice, pansit, and fried chicken, as well as tropical desserts. I felt like I was finally getting what the crew has been holding me out of. While at the party, I met Tita* Memeth, Tito Ronnie's wife, as well as Andro (as his facebook lists him), who is her brother. Memeth is really nice, cooks very well, knows her kids tendencies and differences despite them being twins (“He's an international actor,” she once said referring to the one that cries a lot), and should be a great mother for years to come. Andro was dressed in a nice polo with a matching Yankee hat- I would've thought he was from the states simply from the look.

Then Tito Percy took me on a mini-tour of the old part of Bologna. He pointed out that Bologna was a middle age city, which used to have walls lining its center square. He pointed out the churches, and the iconic towers that distinguish Bologna from other Italian cities. Between Bologna and Florence, even though both cities are of completely different scale, you notice that come to define Italian cities. In the center in front of a big church was a movie festival, and an American movie about Italian immigration was playing on a gigantic screen. Pretty cool.

The second day I like to call relaxation day. For the most part, we stayed in Tito Percy's apartment. It was early in my tenure in Italy, I was in no rush to do anything other than pick the brains of locals (well, Filipino ones) and to spend time with family. It turned out to be pretty eventful; both Memeth, her kids, and Andro came over to visit. Memeth cooked a very nice meal for dinner- she really cooked a lot of food, already I could tell I wasn't going to starve to death for the rest of the voyage, let alone the Italy stay. Andro and I played guitar and sang Backstreet Boys. (Don't judge us.) We also talked about language barriers, and how a Mexican friend of his learned Italian faster than he can, while he's losing his English abilities because he is out of practice. As a linguist, even in a non-educational environment, I can't help but to eat that conversation up.

Turtle at the park.

We went with Memeth and her kids to a park (It had Margherita in the title?). In a weird way, it reminded me of (what I imagine is) my youth in Camperdown as a open recrational area in the middle of light urbanism. The park was defined by green grass, little turtles, giant fish, basketball courts, and people walking, running, skating, and living as you expect they would. I don't know about Rome, but Bologna isn't so different from middle America. It was a real reality check.

By the end of the day I felt like I realy bonded with Roy and Ronelle (the other one). I was able to play a nice game of keepaway using pillows, distracting them both for hours from the comfort of a couch. Those two are such a load of fun. That said, I realize that twins are harder to deal with than you think, they are twice as exhausting at the same time as twice the fun.

The third day we went to Pisa. I'm not typing this out again.

The fourth day (aka Firenze Day 1), I planned to leave around mid day to meet my cousins on the other side of the tree. But really Tito Percy saved the best sightseeing for last, driving us to San Luca and Bologna FC stadium. San Luca is an orange medieval church built upon the highest mountain close to Bologna. Apparently it was built because the virgin mother came down to Bologna for a week, and this would be the site for pilgrimage. The church is beautiful, defined by an orange, round exterior, Corinthean columns, a beautifully painted dome depicting angels, and gigantic paintings of the Passion on the sides of its walls (that must sound like every church I've been to, but it's different). It was a medium sized church, certainly not a duomo like Pisa and Florence, but certainly larger than most American Catholic churches. There is a roofed path from this church into the center of town. From the church, you can see for miles. The entirety of Bologna can be seen. For being in Bologna, it is quite the diamond in the rough.

He then, on a whim, took us to the home stadium of Bologna FC. (I kept saying FC Barcelona every time I talk about it...) Tito Percy used to live across the street from the stadium. Truth be told, the logos of both teams seem very similar, as both teams have blue and red stripes, both symbols use Saint George's Cross, and both cities start with the letter b. Only thing missing is that Catalunya flag. That said, Bologna's stadium was every nice looking. Although it didn't house nearly as many people as Camp Nou, its architectural style, with a medieval tower on one side of it, matched with the city's architecture well. Unfortunately, they gated the field so I wouldn't get to run around on it. But for what we saw, and what we didn't pay to see it, it was completely worth it.

Then at 1417 I jumped on the train towards Prato and waved goodbye to Tito Percy and Benedetta. Thank you so much for letting me stay with you and sharing with me all you could. I can't thank you enough.

Side notes:

I forgot to write this, on our way to Pisa I ran into a couple of Americans who lived in Carroll County, but hailed from Wisconsin. One of them was a nuclear engineer, who travels the world to look at power plants. He says Bulgaria will be pretty cheap, though not as cheap as Egypt would be. We also had a lovely conversation about the growth of hockey in Maryland, or lack thereof. An American or two now and then isn't bad.

*We're not going to call her Tita after this point because she wants to feel young. Her kids are only toddlers and a college kid is calling her Tita?

The World In Pictures- Barcelona Flamenco

Now I'm trying to post all of the pictures I couldn't before. So enjoy them! If you want to know more about them or my thoughts on them, read past blog posts or email me at afrancisco@semesteratsea.net.

Pisa Day- Definitely not a boring second go-around

I'll recap the Bologna Days soon enough. Just want to keep up while it's fresh.

So, today my cousin Benedetta and I woke up early to go to Pisa. Now I've been to Pisa before, it's not nearly as dynamic as Barcelona or Rome, but it's still a beautiful city. After jumping on three trains, one to Prato, one to Firenze (Florence), and finally the one that took us to Pisa, we reached the city. The rides made for a quiet morning.

You're waiting for a train...

When we got there, we met Clarissa. She's a Filipino Italian student, plays flute, studies at a conservatory and is doing well in her flute pursuit, but also is a quite a hard rocker and metalhead. Slipknot is her life (her words)? Also, she's my cousin. Clearly awesome runs in my mother's side of the family.

So we did the regular thing, to see the tower and take a picture. But before that, we met up with some relatives of theirs, (ours? mine?) and we got a ride there. We also ate at a restaurant where a few of Benedetta's relatives work. ... was that a free meal? Either way, probably the best margherita pizza I've had all trip. Pizza in Pisa. Go figure.

We then tried to get into the duomo- apparently you have to pay. But apparently, the line for the tickets was so long if we waited we'd be there until really late, so we decided to instead take a cycling (err, what amounts to a cart for three with pedals) tour. That was nuts. In the sidestreets, we were constantly dodging pedestrians and parked cars. In the main road, we were always moving to the side to get out of the way on. Somehow we ended up on a busy street being chased by a bus. No I don't have pics, no estoy loco.

But otherwise it's a great idea to take, you get to see much more of Pisa and the river with less effort and in less time (relative to walking). That said, hills suck. And so do bridges. And heavy traffic.