The elephant and the Atlantic sky.

There is an Indian fable about six blind men describing an elephant. One approaches the side and feels a great mud wall. Another perceives an elephant to be a spear. The third asserts an elephant is like a rope, the fourth like a fan, the fifth like a snake and the last like the trunk of a mighty palm tree.
Each has their story. Each has a particular memory of their experience of the elephant. No one story trumps another, and no story is the full picture.
Yet each story is important, and true.
As we prepare for the end of the voyage, each participant has their version of a story, all true and all felt experiences of their experiences.
It is vital that each person has the unique experience of owning their story, of having a dedicated audience to listen to their version of “how was it?” While there is power in the shared voyage, and the friendships made also provide validation of shared the shared adventures, blessings, and tragedies, there is also a need for each person to have their own, unique place to be the sole author of one’s own life, and to script the version of this story to shape who each of us will become.
The Fall 2012 Semester at Sea community has suffered the loss of one of our members, in our last port, in the last days of a 100+ day educational voyage. Casey Anne Schulman is acutely missed, and our hearts go out to her family. Her death is like the moon that I see in the night sky as i write this.

The experience of losing her is also like a moon for many of the community. I picture the entirety of the trip much like the magnificent sunrises and sunsets I have inadequately captured on my camera, but have sat and admired for many minutes of many different days.
There are depths of color, texture, and temperature in the experience of the art that the sun creates. There is anticipation, there are teases, there are bursts, heart-opening experiences, and afterglow. There are moments of thinking “this is it”and preparing to leave, followed by turning around and recognizing that there is so much more.

This is the gift of a almost 360 degree view of the sky when one lives on a ship. When one part of the sky looks dark, we can turn, and see where there is still a magnificence, a splendor that takes our breath away.
I have been thinking about the tragedy and how it fits into the story of each person’s voyage, and the story of their voyage. I think of this last port as an experience that has the potential to eclipse the staggering impact of the rest of the journey. It all has to do with where we stand in relation to it.

When someone leaves Semester and Sea and rejoins family and friends, it is often too much story for anyone to hear. More so this trip than others, it is critical that the full story does get told. The stories began in Halifax, or months before, and they continue beyond disembarkation, as they include the meaning that one finds as their lives are transformed.
My hope for the community members is that each one has the gift of their story being shared with a unique audience who is invested in the person, and knows the power of narrative.
The moon glows bright and beautiful in the night sky. I honor its presence and also plan to celebrate the sun of the new day.

                   

The Amazon

There is a meeting of many forces at this juncture of the voyage. The days are palpably numbered until we arrive home. Students, and everyone else bemoan the ending of this adventure, and also eagerly anticipate the return to family, familiar routines, favorite meals. Food is the oft repeated theme of so many conversations, partially because we have been exposed to so many savory new flavors, but also because the routine of the shipboard fare is wearing thin. Many of us are particularly craving good Vietnamese Phó as a comfort food on familiar ground.

Manaus is a big city in the middle of the rainforest. First impressions: heat, humidity. Just as in Ghana, I am struck by the scent of the area, and realize it has to do with arriving in communities that burn stuff. It feels sacred, reminiscent of incense in church when I was a child.

The first day we wandered the city, and most interesting were the food markets with rows and rows of meat and fish, and stalls full of fruits and vegetables. I got off the ship with the intention of trying Capuaçú, and was enthralled by the line up of guys tossing watermelons to stack. Bananas too are in abundance.

We has some juice first from a market, Passion Fruit--cold and refreshing. I picked it according to image, and not reading portuguese, just hoped for delicious. This is one of the excellent moments of travel, to taste something completely unfamiliar and to be delighted by it. The second juice was from a vendor, picked by color and this one I did later ascertain was Capuaçú.

Rest in the afternoon and Opera House. The city is famous for this building, an investment from the days of Rubber being big business here. We saw a philharmonic whose arrangements were on par with performances I have seen in Los Angeles.

Day Two was a Waterfall trek and I was group leader with 29 participants, all female students except for Jonathan, one of the RDs. Two hours drive north of the city, then a ten minute walk into the woods, brought us to a waterfall. The girls squealed with delight and took lots of photos of each other under the falls. The guides gave everyone about 45 minutes here to hang out and play. It is always great when the pace slows down.

The next stretch was a rainforest hike and some caves. We then enjoyed a lunch served family style with platters of fish and meat, and side salads. Fruit juice bars for dessert with more new flavors to sample.

We then went to a very local beach where a zip line was set up and each took turns flying over the river back and forth, Three local boys seemed to run the operation, and having set up and run zip lines 20 years ago, I was in awe of both how much easier the set up can be than it was back then, and how they were doing everything right in terms of safety. Not a bad way to bring money into the rural economy. Then, on their own, what great fun to be had!

The next morning was a riverboat ride to see the Meeting of the Waters. This is a confluence that coexists where the black waters of the Rio Negro meet the Solimões River's brown waters, flowing together without mixing for nine kilometers (5.5 miles).

Short walks off our river boat took us to a village where we saw a demonstration of how rubber used to be harvested. The liquid from the trees coagulates quickly. We were told that at the time of birth, this material was used to seal the snipped umbilical cord after a woman gives birth.

Watermarked from floods that lose all the crops in the area.

Rubber sap.

                                                                                                

Thank goodness for tourists in communities like this. The Brazilians go to the beach, but huge touring vessels make the passage down the river to this area, and we saw lots of European tourists in the various sites we stopped.

We were taken to see the lily pads, and some members of our group held a baby sloth. Those fellows earn their name, as evidenced by their extremely slow movements.

Then back on the river again. Twelve days to go. Consolidation of the experiences is big for everyone; reflections and regrets are reviewed. I am mostly enjoying this stage of work, as students find the words to tie this all together. In some ways, the voyage is Semester at Sea “Lite” because of the percentage of time in Europe and the tone that set. For many, the experience of Manaus and the Amazon has been the place where they have tested the limits of what they have learned, and are starting to formulate how they want to be as they go home. This is the personal confluence we all are invited to face.

Rio de Janeiro

“The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one’s own country as a foreign land.”

– G. K. Chesterton

We were told that Rio rivals as best port to pull into, and so we set our alarms accordingly. More students, faculty, and staff were on deck than most mornings in anticipation. First, nature, then the beauty of the city and surrounding area satisfied our senses. It was warm and welcoming.

This is a town caught between water and mountains, and it uses the space well. Some favelas climb up to the steepest of hillsides, and I have heard of elevators in some neighborhoods. When we were above the city in Santa Teresa, the steps down reminded me of Cusco, steep but wide, with a healthy population moving up and down them.

Our first cab ride away from the ship was to Ipanema Beach to see a Hippie Crafts Market, It was a mellow place to walk around and see so many artisans’ work, as well as taste Brazilian pastries. Another great town for graffiti.

The beach was gorgeous. I am not sure how this looks barren, as the crowds were thick on this hot Sunday morning. Brazilians are beautiful. There were volleyball games, hands free, with amazing soccer skills in play to help that ball clear the net.

I asked about this later. Orchids are grafted onto trees that appear to be on public streets. It added an extra element of glamour to the neighborhood. We had an incredible lunch here, with the meat eaters indulging in all kinds of treats and I had some really fresh fruit.

We took the cable cars up to Sugar Loaf Mountain. Here are some views below.





On a walk at the top part of the mountain, the monkeys came down out of the trees to say hello.


Sunset came around 6:30, and we opted to go back to the ship. Two more days to enjoy this city, a place I immediately felt like I could spend a year in if given the chance. I don’t feel that way too often because I love Los Angeles and Venice so much. Living as an ex-pat in a country without the primary language would wear me down, but I still hold on to that sense of wonder about “one year”, and have my whole adult life. For those who are younger and less obligated, I challenge you to keep this option in your minds, not necessarily about Rio, but about places that speak to you in some way.


The next morning we bummed a van ride with friends to see Cristo Redentor, the Christ statue on the hill. What a scene!
I spent about an hour milling around, looking at every sort of way people photograph the statue and the vistas below.



Me and my work mate Damian. Below, Lisa taking Annalyn’s photo.



On the way down the hill, five of us hopped out of the van in Santa Teresa, a town Abel from Los Angeles told me to visit. He suggested what I thought was Supernatural Restaurant. I am glad we landed at the right place--Sobrenatural, and we had another fantastic meal. Wiser this time, we ordered 4 dishes for 5 people, and some excellent drinks like Maté Iced Tea and Pineapple Mint fresh juice.



This town is full of artists, similar culturally to Topanga, California, Mádrd, New Mexico, Jerome, Arizona, or Yellow Springs, Ohio, The history is there was a trolley that rode up and down along the aqueduct bringing tourists up to buy art, visit the quirky cafes, and enjoy the view of the basin and coast below. A crash including fatalities has put a hold of the trolley working, and locals hope it is back in service in 2014. We didn’t mind that it was a bit slower in foot traffic. It was a great place for wandering.


There were lots of things for the eyes to feast on, and these installations in someone’s yard were intriguing.



Then, the walk down to the city centre brought this colorful surprises. From the top, there is little evidence of the color to unfold. Turning around and looking up was another visual feast.








This is the kind of place we could have spent hours, because of the intricacies of each tile and the story it told.




Alas, we left this area and moved on to the Catedral, expecting something old and European. We were met instead by a pyramid-inspired building that looked pretty bland on the outslde.


Inside, it was spacious, and the light coming through cast a warm glow.



St. Francis is backlit from a side door, and behind him in the cityscape view is the Cristo statue looking down.



A walk back to the ship then, as some of our party had Samba, and another was going out for a Big Meat fest. I opted out of both evening plans. The next day’s forecast called for rain, and I was the leader for a Rainforest hike to some waterfalls.



With rain of course comes mist, a cloud covering so thick that even though we were standing in the Tijuca Forest at a spot with 360° views, our backdrop was opaque. We altered the hike to follow the rivers, learn about some vegetation, and see the falls.





And that’s it for Rio! I came back to the ship and had an excellent cup of coffee before getting on board. I finished my latest novel before dinner, and am completing this blog entry. We are off for 8 days of sailing, half which will be in the Amazon. I am less than a month from home, and that is a theme with many of the students I am seeing. I am also completing lots of letters for the candidates hoping for doctoral programs next year. The flow of life involves integration of the novel and the necessary. I wish I could have stayed longer in this city. I don’t know if I will be back, but i do know how much I appreciate good food, good company, visual richness, nature, and culture. In many ways Rio makes me grateful for my own city, my own home. Yay!