Morocco

Our last port of call was the surprisingly modern city of Casablanca. The port was bustling, filled with unloading container ships and heavily laden trucks moving about. We cleared customs relatively quickly and I joined a field trip to the capital city of Rabat. The trip via bus took us about an hour, traveling along the shore. Rabat used to be a walled city and the historic wall still stands, guarding a city grown much too big to contain within it's old stone walls. The parapets still look down upon a river flowing into the Atlantic. Just outside the walls is a large, very old cemetery which sits above the rocks along the ocean side. A small beach held crowds of young men in swimsuits and young women completely covered from head to foot - Morocco is a Muslim nation although it is quite tolerant and even a bit proud of its Christian and Jewish populations. In 1492 Spain kicked all the Jews and Muslims and many of them ended up right across the Mediterranean in Morocco. I get the impression that they still have a strong sense of that shared adversity today.

Quite the view

The following day a small group of us took a harrowing cab ride to the train station. The traffic in Casablanca is no worse than half the other ports we visited, but the drivers are aggressive and impatient. Imagine a New York cab driver with ten minutes to get across mid-town Manhattan to win a million bucks. It was interesting.

Our purpose today was to boarded the express train to the city of Marrakech. Reading that sentence, you may have the same song running through your head as I did that morning. The train trip took about three hours through rolling hills covered with scrub grasses and cultivated plots of cactus-looking plants that apparently are raised for their fruit. They weren't true cactus, those only live in the New World. Sitting there on the train, you could have believed that you were traveling through southern Utah. Outcrops of vaguely red rock stuck out of mute-green sparse patches of tall grass. It was only the occasional minaret from a local mosque that spoiled the illusion.

Marrakech is another walled city, long outgrown it's original fortifications. We were booked into a Riad (small hotel) in the historic part of the city which required a ten minute cab ride. Six of us piled into an old Mercedes Benz with a grizzled old cab driver and we made our way through the city. This cab ride was a bit less harrowing, but no less quick and soon we were dropped at the edge of a huge market square. We crossed the large open area covered with booths selling spices and fruits and totally crowded with people, motor bikes and the occasional car edging itself slowly through the crowd. We had a somewhat imperfect map, but eventually found ourself traveling down a tunnel with merchants on both sides hawking clothing, lamps, and assorted souvenirs of all kinds. The walls between the shops were about ten feet wide and crowded with people. This didn't stop the progress of occasional small cars, motor bikes and even three or four horse-drawn carts. The street was full of life, noise and exotic smells.

Our new neighborhood

A hundred meters or so down this narrow street, we found a left hand turn onto, or into an even narrower street. Part tunnel, part arbor and part street, our path led down a narrow way punctuated by iron strapped doors set right into the stone walls. On both sides, even narrower side streets led off at random, bending out of sight like some sort of bizarre maze. We came to the door of our riad which looked no different from the several we had already passed. We knocked and our host, a Frenchman named Daniel led us into paradise. The transition was amazing. One moment we were in a dark narrow alleyway, then next we were in a beautiful open courtyard, shaded by orange trees with a small fountain in the center. We sat down at a small cafe table and were served dark, thick coffee with biscotti. I felt like I had been transported into some sort of espionage film.

Following coffee, Daniel showed us to our rooms. The room I was given was actually located in what he called the "petit riad", which was down the alleyway from the main riad. This space had it's own terrace along with a courtyard containing a small plunge pool. Any moment now, James Bond was going to step out and offer me a shaken martini. Absolutely beautiful.

Goods for sale in the marketplace

We spent the rest of the day walking around the market, getting hassled by vendors and just enjoying the sights and smells of this little city inside the city. Late afternoon found us back at the riad where our host provided us a bottle of wine and four glasses. We proceeded to the roof of the third floor where we could look out over the entire city. As the sun set, we sipped our wine and admired the maze of rooftops, alleyways and crowded spaces. Right after the sun set, we could hear the call to prayer sounding out from six or seven mosques all over the city. It was a surreal experience.

Sunset in Marrakesh

After a fantastic meal of meat kabobs and cous cous, we wandered around the square which had now transformed itself into a maze of small vendors and performers looking for tips. There were snake charmers, monkeys on leashes, dancers and birds of prey. Small displays of lanterns, statues and other items for sale laid in between small carts hawking juice, sweets and other food. It was a crowded and hectic space full of life. Quite a different feel from other markets we had visited in previous ports.

That nest isn't looking so good...

The following day we wandered some more, visiting some far flung sides of the city. We visited a (semi) restored part of the city wall fortification which was now mostly open space and nesting space for cranes. We enjoyed a late lunch and then packed up for the return train trip to Casablanca - this time decidedly not an express. The three-hour trip out took more than four back and we didn't get back to the city till late at night.

Our student group in the Hassan II Mosque

On the last day in Casablanca, I joined the Comparative Religions course's Field Lab to go to a variety of religious sites in the city. We started at a small museum of Judaism which chronicled the life of Moroccan Jews. Next we visited the Hussan II Mosque - the third largest mosque in the world (the other two being in Saudi Arabia). This was an absolutely massive structure that was amazing to walk through. We were told that the mosque can (and has) held 25,000 worshipers during Ramadan, with 50,000 outside listening to the worship through speakers mounted on poles outside the building. We were given the opportunity to walk through the main structure and then go into the basement to see where the ablutions occur. The entire structure is made of Italian marble and is gorgeous.

The beast with seven head

Our last stop was at a Catholic church where a replica of the grotto at Lourdes has been created. The inside the church (which brought all sorts of flashbacks from my childhood) was pretty standard for a Catholic parish church. There was however some amazing stained glass work featuring all sorts of images you don't usually see in stained glass. My favorite was an image of Angels fighting with the seven-headed beast of Revelations. Quite striking.

The Gold Coast

We had nearly a week after departing South Africa to make our way up the west coast of Africa to Ghana. Historically, called the Gold Coast the country renamed itself following its independence from Great Britain in the 50's. This is a pretty poor nation with a wealth of natural resources that don't seem to trickle down to the common citizen. I have a great deal of affection for the culture and people of Kenya so I was looking forward to seeing their compatriots on the other side of the continent. Ghana didn't have nearly the appeal for me. While we admittedly were in areas where goods were for sale, I found most of the folks we met to be pretty aggressive and insistent that we spend our money with them. Twice we had cab drivers try to cheat us and at one point in Accra we actually had a guy follow us for about twenty minutes trying to sell us his artwork. He proceeded to wait outside of a shop that we spent a good twenty minutes in, and then he followed us back out again. Even when we made it clear that we didn't want us following us, he continued to harangue us and got pretty angry that we weren't showing him "respect". Apparently in this situation, respect means giving him money. It was uncomfortable and left a bad taste in my mouth. The other merchants we encountered weren't quite as bad, but were still quite aggressive. With all the poverty, it's easy to see why people might be motivated to get all the tourist dollars they can. This is one side of the visit, but there was plenty of good in the visit however which I'll describe here:

We arrived in the port city of Takoradi for the first two days of our visit.  On our first day I was the "Bus Lesion" for a trip to the Kakum National Park to the north of the city. The trip involved a two and a half hour drive through dry scrub and settlements. As we gained elevation we saw increasing greenery and banana and coconut plantations. Reaching the park itself, we found a small group of thatch roofed buildings with an entrance station. There was no visitor's center to speak of, but there was a small shop allowing the students to immediately start shopping. This park is in a tropical

A walk in the woods

rainforest and has a series of seven hanging bridges suspended about a hundred feet above the rainforest floor. This allows a person to experience the canopy of the rainforest and get an idea of just how thick and extensive the forest is. The bridges are about eight inches wide and are quite securely fastened. Each bridge has chest-high nets and hand lines to hang on to making them quite easy to traverse. Many of the students however found it quite challenging to look down on the high drop and deal with the bouncing and swinging of the bridge. I happen to be a bit of an acrophile and I had no trouble with the height or movement of the bridge. If you've ever done a ropes course, these bridges would seem like a sidewalk. The walk across the bridges was fun, although with fifty-five some students in our group hooting and hollering, you can hardly say that the experience was a solitary one. With all the noise, any birds and mammals were long gone.

Just hanging out

We did however discover a very cool green tree snake that seemed unfazed by our traffic. Following the rainforest trek we bussed down to a local restaurant and had a nice local lunch. Like East Africa, the food was heavy on meat and thick sauces. The vegetarians in our group didn't love the offerings but I found it plenty tasty.



Takoradi was our first port in Ghana. After a bit less than two days the ship transited to the slightly larger and much busier port of Tema. This port was closer to the city of Accra, which was a bit of a draw for the students. Also, several of the Field Labs for courses were in this area making the logistics easier for the busy Field Office aboard the Explorer. On our first day in Tema I took the ship's shuttle into Accra where I had a nice lunch with a few friends and looked around the shopping district. Accra didn't really speak to me and I was most looking forward to our next day which held all sorts of potential for adventure.

Our plan for the next day? One of the Professors aboard, Dr. Laycock who teaches Comparative Religion has a colleague who has worked in Ghana for nearly two decades. His colleague had arranged for a small group of our faculty to meet a group of leaders from the local religious community - a group of Fetish Priests, apparently the term they prefer over "Witch Doctors". This religious tradition is the West African faith system that shares common roots with the various aspects of Voodoo that developed from slave communities in the New World. We had no idea what sort of experience we were going to have - all we knew was that we would pay a small fee, part of which was going towards the purchase of "Aromatic Schnapps", which would be used in the rituals we were going to attend. We were to be picked up the following morning from the port and brought to Accra to meet the group of Priests. Just going to a voodoo ceremony paid for with alcohol - what could possibly go wrong?

Our group was met by a van outside the port gates and we piled in and headed along the coast towards Accra. Along the way we stopped at a coffin-building workshop to admire the "fantasy coffins" Apparently, this is something of a tradition in Ghana. People will commission a coffin to be built in the shape of a tool, an animal or some other thing that symbolizes their life. A fisherman might be buried in a giant fish, while a carpenter might choose a hammer. We saw both of these along

Yes, this is a coffin

with a six-foot long semi truck, a large vegetable and a movie camera. The strangest was a giant spider. When we asked our driver who might commission such a thing he just shrugged and said "maybe Spiderman?". There were five or six craftsmen in the shop and they seemed a bit bemused by the group of white tourists wandering through their shop taking pictures. They were quite friendly and smiled as we complemented on their craftsmanship. They were quite frankly the nicest people I had met in Ghana - they didn't try to sell me anything.

Following the coffin shop, we piled back into the van and continued our way towards Accra. As we got closer to the city, the traffic became thick and soon we were in stop and go with more stop than go. The heat was pretty intense and with no air conditioning, we had every window in the van open. All along both sides of the street and between the rows of mostly stopped cars wandered vendors. These folks were dodging between the cars with fantastic piles of goods balanced on their heads, selling to the autos as they inched through traffic. We were amazed by the incredible balance and the sight of all manner of products for sale. As we sat there in traffic we began to compile a list of things that would fill several different kinds of brick and mortar shops. Here's our list:

And she has to dodge motorcycles!

tissues, toilet paper, paper towels
papaya, Mentos, peanut cakes
windshield wiper blades, phone vouchers, cell phone covers
small bags of water, roasted ground nuts (peanuts)
bathroom scales, giant Jesus paintings
jump ropes, watches, bobble head dogs,
plantain chips, veggies/potatoes, banku, sugarcane, coconuts
belts, wallets, purses,
movies and dvds, sandals, sunglasses
laundry soap, air freshener, brooms and brushes
sliced bread and tubs of butter
some sort of fried-dough looking thing

All of this, just over the course of four or five miles. No need to stop at the store on your daily commute - it's no-stop shopping!

Eventually we made it through the traffic and entered Accra. Our van drove down increasingly narrow streets until we were deep into the part of town the tourists don't visit. We stopped in front of a narrow alley and were greeted by seven men dressed in traditional West African dress. These were the Fetish Priests. After a brief introduction, they began a welcoming ritual that involved chanting with a call and response that revealed the deep roots this culture shares with the slaves brought over to the New World centuries ago.

Welcome to Accra

The ceremony involved something that they called "libations" which was a ritual spilling of spirits (alcohol) on the ground and then filling a small cup and sipping from it. The entire ceremony lasted about twenty minutes, concluding with each of us being brought forward to sip from the cup. The libation was a clear liquid with the same smell and I imagine the same taste of lighter fluid. The ritual concluded, we were beckoned down the alleyway into a courtyard which was covered by a small tent with a ring of chairs under it. Three drummers were set up on one end and they began beating out a complex rhythm. This was the beginning of a second ritual that involved several of the Priests standing and dancing within the circle of chairs. We were each, one-by-one brought up with one of the Priests and encouraged to copy his motions. Following this, the drumming stopped and we were welcomed and introduced to each of the Priests. They explained the meaning of the various rituals and then explained that we were going to go visit a series of shrines holy to their faith. As I understood it, each shrine has a powerful totem which symbolizes (or perhaps embodies) an entity that allows the worshiper to communicate with God. Kind of like praying to a patron Saint to communicate your prayers forward.

We piled into the van, this time accompanied by one of the Priests while the others disappeared into another vehicle. Our van was led through a twisting maze of narrow streets with crumbling buildings and slow-moving people peering at the strange group of white people. We eventually stopped and were led down a narrow alley to another small courtyard where again plastic chairs were set up. Here we met a Priestess who explained that this was a fertility temple where women would come to have a pregnancy blessed or pray for a healthy child. The Priests called the place a "temple" but it looked for all the world like a mostly empty space that was being used to store old fishing gear. There were no idols, no images on the walls or any other indication that this space was used for anything of spiritual significance. In fact, we eventually were brought to four separate shrines, each in incredibly poor surroundings with nothing to indicate that they were in any way holy except for a small beehive-shaped mound in the threshold where apparently they make weekly offerings of cheese, butter or yoghurt. The actual "fetish", the symbol of the temple was kept behind curtains and we were not permitted to view it. At each temple we were either given small cups of the sour Schnapps to sip, or presented with chanting and call-and-response that we had observed at the beginning. Interestingly, at each site there was a local man who was not introduced video taping our visit. Following each Temple visit, we were asked to pose with the locals for a group photograph. They seemed very happy that we had come and spent time answering our questions at each site. It was quite fascinating, strange and vaguely off-putting. I imagine that from the outside any religion looks pretty strange to those not used to it, but this was so far outside my experience that I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.

I understood that this religion was connected to the voodoo of Haiti and the Sanataria of Cuba by an ocean a few hundred years, but really don't know more than that about the roots of this faith system. I know nothing of voodoo except for movies that portray it in relatively unfavorable light. Here we were being presented with fertility temples and offerings of welcome to outside visitors - not exactly the dark rituals and dolls with pins sticking in them that Hollywood portrays. However we did get a glimpse at something perhaps a bit darker. One of our group asked the Priestess at the fertility temple if the temple was used for anything other than blessings for unborn children and she was told that yes, they also did death curses here. Wow.

After several hours of touring the different sites, we were brought back to the first courtyard and brought inside the building. We were offered drinks and a simple, but very spicy/tasty lunch of chicken and rice with potatoes. There was one final short ceremony and each of us posed for an individual picture with the head Priest who gave each of us a small carving as a thank you for coming. We then piled into the van for the long ride back to the ship. This was an educational experience unlike anything I've ever experienced. This day will stick with me for a long time.

The Prime Meridian!

At 1443 (2:43 p.m.) today April 5, we crossed the equator (0 degrees North/South) at the Prime Meridian (0 degrees East/West). This is a featureless point off the west coast of Africa and has no significance except for geeky-types like me. Whee!!!! One minute it's fall, the next spring. Actually it's pretty hot and feels like summer on both sides of both imaginary lines. We arrive in Ghana tomorrow morning.

'Round the Cape

After an uneventful passage around the Cape of Good Hope on the southern tip of Africa, we approached the city of Capetown, South Africa on a clear, crisp March morning. We were just past the equinox and fall was in the air. The foredeck was crowded as dawn broke and we were treated to the distinctive skyline of Capetown with Table Mountain towering above the city, dominating the skyline. It was truly beautiful and I was psyched to get my boots on the trail to climb the sucker. (My inner peak bagger from my grad school days sometimes comes to visit my soul) Hillary said that we climb to get to the top, but really that was just a flip response to a question that if you have to ask it, you cannot comprehend the answer.

Capetown from sea

Following the requisite organized chaos that is customs clearance for a thousand plus people, we were released to go play ashore. I had no responsibilities in this port so I was free to join a group of staff and faculty who were looking to stretch our legs and tour the town a bit. The port facility is right downtown and we were able to get onto busy streets immediately and see what was what. The first shock was to have cars stop at the crosswalks - very different from China, Vietnam, Burma, and pretty much every single place we had visited including Hawaii. People seemed friendly and we had a pleasant stroll through streets where everyone spoke English and all the street signs were in good repair and easily followed. It was quite a treat.

We visited a local market and eventually found a street cafe where we enjoyed a beverage or two and a big basket of chips. "I don't want chips, I want french fries" was a line from one of our group. "Ahhh… 'chips' are 'french fries' here" was the reply. You have to speak English here, not American.

The following day was the big draw for me in this port - we were set to climb Table Mountain. We had a small group of six set to do the  climb and the weather was a bit of a worry. The day previous had been very windy and the mountain had beed quite cloudy by mid-day. This is a common weather pattern for this time of year and we were hoping to get some views from the top of the mountain. When I awoke I was pleased to see that the day had dawned clear and calm. We eagerly boarded the bus and were quickly brought around the city to the beautiful Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens on the outskirts of the city. We were met there by our hiking guide Binny and another guide Frank who was set to meet us at the top of the mountain. Binny cheerfully organized our little troop and we set out across the gardens to the start of the trail. Table Mountain pretty much rises straight up out of the ground with very little in the way of foothills. We went from a casual stroll to a hike worthy of New Hampshire - straight up. Our track was up the colorfully named "Skeleton Gorge". Switchbacks were few and sections of the trail were so steep that ladders had been installed in order to get us past the sheer rock faces. It was a bit strenuous, but our group moved well and after a couple of hours we topped out and took a snack break.

Our route up Table Monntain

I expected the top of a mountain called "Table" to be pretty flat, so I was surprised to be greeted by small peaks and valleys covered with thick scrub. It looked all the world like the San Raphael Swell in Southern Utah with hardy vegetation covering sand and rock. The top of the mountain is interspersed with five reservoirs built in the 19th century to supply water to the city. The upper basins were dry, but the lower ones still held water kept back by stoneworks hand-hewn from the surrounding rock. We could still see the scars on the sides of rocks were the stone had been broken out and shaped for the dam and stone pathways around the water basins. We spent several hours walking around and across the top of the mountainside and stopped on the far side to gaze down at the broad Atlantic Ocean far below us. There wasn't a breath of wind and the air was warm - it was hard to look across the water and realize that the next stop was Antarctica.

We continued our long loop around the mountain and in a couple of hours we reached our lodging for the night - a stone cabin maintained by the South African version of the National Park Service. I expected some sort of rustic building with rough accommodations and was pleasantly surprised to find bedrooms with comforters and china plates, silverware and even wineglasses for our evening meal. Very cush - not at all what you would find in an American national park to be sure. Our group spent the remainder of the afternoon relaxing with a bit of napping and reading all that was on the agenda. As the sun sank low over the horizon, a few of us trooped out to a fantastic overlook and enjoyed the amazing sunset. Turning around, we were created by the rising

Moonrise - our cabin is on the left

full moon for a second amazing celestial spectacle. As the moon continued to rise, the lights of the city came up far below and we relaxed with a glass of wine and good conversation. We had a very nice group. Dinner was an amazing affair with steak, Tandori chicken, local sausage and roasted vegetables. Frank is an amazing cook and there was more food than we knew what to do with. The cabin had running water, but no electricity so our dinner was a lazy affair with great conversation and stories of South Africa from our generous hosts.

Sometime in the middle of the night I was awoken by the sound of the wind which had returned with force. I got up just before sunrise and bundled up and climbed up on some rocks above the cabin to greet the sun. I found a nice lee and huddled down to watch the sun rise. Clouds were pouring over the mountain and cascading into the valley below. The lights of the city stood out as the valley slowly began to fill with clouds. The sunrise was spectacular and by the time I got back down I found breakfast waiting for me. After a lovely meal, we packed up and headed out. Our original plan was to hike across the top of the mountain and take the commercial cable car back down to the city. The winds made that plan impossible, so we went to Plan B which was to walk back down. Binny's extensive knowledge of the area gave us a different way down and we were able to enjoy another aspect of the mountain and very different weather. I learned from a Hurricane Island Outward Bound instructor: "There's no such thing as bad weather, just different kinds of good weather".

Sunrise

The winds were whipping and the clouds were pouring over the top of the mountain - definitely a different kind of good weather from the previous day. We looped around through dry mountain vegetation and eventually passed down into thicker trees and occasional running water. We ended back where we began in the beautiful botanical gardens in bright sunshine. Looking up, we could see the clouds racing across the sky. The winds had not abated and indeed would continue to blow for the entire rest of our visit. We had hit on the only clear calm day in the entire week - good fortune indeed.

The following day four of us took a rental car south along the scenic coastline towards Cape Point - the end of the Cape of Good Hope. This is not the absolute southernmost point of Africa, but it is the one cited by mariners as they pass from Indian to Atlantic and back again. The weather was windy and threatening rain, but the drive south stayed clear and sunny. We enjoyed fantastic views and I got to practice my driving on the left skills honed in Kenya and Grenada. It's so much easier with an automatic transmission. Finding reverse in a hurry when you've got an elephant in the road is much more of a challenge than the smooth, wide roads of South Africa.

The view from Cape Point

We eventually reached the National Park and got to the lighthouse at the end of the road. There was a Visitor's Center and nice restaurant where we had a lovely meal that included my favorite beverage - Stoney! Stoney is an African Ginger Beer (non-alcoholic) that I first grew to love when I used to go to Kenya all the time. I was reintroduced to it last summer when Jim and I went back to Kimana and I was pleased to see it here as well. I'm currently sailing with a couple of six packs to enjoy for the rest of our voyage. While we were down on the Cape, I took a short hike with Ariana down the sea cliffs to a beach to collect a bit of sand for my beach sand collection. The

For the nautically minded

trail was a boardwalk that turned into a steep set of stairs down to the beach. Fun going down, a bit less fun going back up. Our timing was perfect and as we set down to eat lunch, the threatening rain came in and we enjoyed the smokey coastline from the safety of our Ostrich Burgers and Stoney. Happiness.


Retracing our way off the Cape, we turned further east and headed out to Simons Town, the home of a National Park site that hosts a huge penguin rookery. They have a series of

Lots and lots of penguins

boardwalks up to allow people to walk above the nesting penguins. My only other penguin experience was in Tasmania where I went on a "Penguin Safari". This consisted of standing out on the cold shore in the middle of the night to watch Fairy Penguins run across the beach to their nests. You could only see the animals from a distance, lit up by the spotlights of the guides. This was a completely different experience. Our stroll along the boardwalk showed us hundreds of African Penguins engaged in all sorts of behaviors. In the span of mere minutes we observed nesting, feeding, mating and all sorts of social interactions within the crowded colony. It was absolutely fascinating.

Our time in South Africa was way too short. I opted out of going on safari, which was the choice of many of my friends and most of the students. The safaris all involved long plane flights and huge expense. I've already spent a fair bit of money on this year without salary and I've decided to

Penguins are very cool

conserve my funds. Also, if you've read my posts of the awesome experiences Jim and I had in Amboseli this past summer, I figured that I wasn't going to top that anyway. It definitely leaves me with plenty undone here in South Africa and lots of desire to come back and visit again. Now we are on to Ghana on this whirlwind tour. More to follow.

Coral Reefs and Dodo Birds

Our transit across the Indian Ocean remained peaceful. Transiting due southwest, seas remained calm and classes continued. We had not had a long ocean transit since leaving Hawaii and students and faculty alike were unaccustomed to multiple days of classes. We had grown accustomed to two days of school, three or four days of exploring a new country, back on the boat for a couple of days, and so on. Now we were looking at five or six days in a row of school work. Oh woe upon us.

Our days at sea are divided into three class periods of seventy-five minutes each before lunch and four periods in the afternoon. Following dinner there is generally a variety of academic and social functions, usually built around a 2000 (8:00 p.m.) talk in the Student Union called the "Explorer Seminar". It makes for full days, and there is always plenty to keep you distracted from preparing lectures or grading papers. On this leg, I was assigned by our Dean to give a seminar on the island of Mauritius - our next stop. My talk was a twofer, as I was paired with Louise, one of my traveling companions way back when in Kyoto. Louise, a lawyer, was slated to discuss the political, social and religious aspects of the island. My task was to present the physical side of the island - geology, biology and environmental aspects of the island. While I had never been to Mauritius, I was armed with a decent working knowledge of tropical islands, a bit of prior prep work, an excellent presentation stolen from my good friend Michel, and a deep long-term interest in the island formally inhabited by the Dodo bird, famed in song and story. As an evolutionary biologist, Mauritius is famous in my field as having once hosted the most famous extinction in the history of biology. This was one place I've been excited to visit for a very long time. The talk went well and I was primed for a short, but hopefully sweet visit.

Port Louis, Mauritius

The morning of our arrival into Port Louis, dawned cloudy with intermittent squalls. The island loomed on the horizon with several volcanic peaks thrusting out green and lush. Not surprisingly, with it's very similar geology the island reminded me strongly of Saint Lucia in the Caribbean. The island is not over built and the city of Port Louis looked quaint and a bit sleepy compared to the huge cities we had been visiting along our track.



Customs clearance went swiftly and we were soon on the dock, boarding a small bus. I had arranged for a snorkeling trip to the north end of the island for a group of ten faculty and staff and since our time was short, we were anxious to get going. After snaking our way through some morning rush hour traffic, we were quickly on a coastal road heading north. The road was in excellent repair and the buildings we passed were in excellent repair. While I can't speak for the island as a whole, the section we traveled through was quite affluent. Gone were the shacks and tumbledown buildings of India and Mayanmar. As we got out of town proper, we were soon passing through thick fields of sugarcane on both sides of the road. It was easy to feel like I had somehow been transported to Grenada or the Dominican Republic until the illusion would be shattered by the abrupt appearance of a Hindu temple in the distance. Familiar and foreign.

An hour's drive brought us to a little tourist community on the northwest corner of the island. There we were met by our two guides Potato and Poohbah. No, I am not making up those names. They had a small speedboat that comfortably held the twelve of us and we were quickly on our way across the water towards a sharp volcanic cliff island just offshore. The weather was threatening rain and we had a smattering on the ride over, but before long the clouds broke and we enjoyed bright sunshine the rest of our day. After a brief tour around the island, we picked up a mooring and got the chance to jump in the water.

On the way to the dive site

Our guides brought us to a nice little reef with a lot of healthy coral growth. I was pleased, especially after my last snorkeling expedition in Vietnam where the coral had been pretty impacted and the water quality poor. Here the water was clear and the coral looked to be in pretty good shape. Much of the coral seemed pretty young, growing on old reef that may have had some impacts in the recent past. We had heard that the island had suffered some hot water conditions in the past that had killed a bunch of coral. Things seem to be coming back in this part of the country at least. We saw a good diversity of fish although most were pretty small. I saw a couple of small lobster, some anemone and coolest of all - two Moray Eels out and foraging during the day, something I had never seen before. All in all a very nice experience.

We had lunch while tied up at the mooring. Home-made chapati and Phoenix beer produced smiles all around. The day went quickly and after another short snorkel, we had to head back to the beach. Our time in Mauritius was only one day long so we needed to be back on the bus and heading back to the Explorer pretty quick. By late afternoon we were back on board, happy but with a feeling of incompleteness. I could easily have spent a month on the island. I didn't really get to see the town and there were several very tempting peaks just screaming out to be climbed. This is a place I would very much like to return to. Of course, most of the places we've visited are places I want to return to…

We are presently back underway and headed for Capetown South Africa. We have six days there and I am greatly looking forward to getting to know the area a bit. I feel certain that we'll leave there wanting more, just like every place we've visited so far.

India and Beyond

We departed India three days ago and I am way behind in my blogging. I could offer my multitude of excuses like a Seminar I have to give in a couple of days to the ship's company, the guest lecture I'm giving in two Oceanography classes, mid-term exams and several other things spinning on my plate, but I imagine my friends and family don't want to hear me complain about during my trip around the world, so let's just move on…

I'm going to blog a bit backwards, in that I have just come below from a dinner sitting outside on Deck Six. Some of the fifth graders at Waterford want to know about food on the ship, so I'll tell you a bit about food on board. We eat cafeteria-style, with food laid out in steam trays and we just stand in line to fill our plates with whatever we want. The food is completely edible, but pretty plain. There is generally some nearly fresh vegetables of the salad variety along with some sort of cooked vegetable as well. There is nearly always pasta, rice and potatoes so you can totally get all of your starch groups if you want. Then there is generally some sort of meat dish, beef, chicken or fish. The food is pretty repetitious and often the source of complaints. However, it's something of a sea-going tradition to complain about the food. I'm mostly an eat-to-live type and the food is just fine for me. It is nice when we go ashore though for the variety and novelty of something different. It's been great that all of the food I've gotten during our shore time has been wonderful (except perhaps that Big Mac on the Great Wall….).

Students dining in the Deck 6 dining area

Sunset over the Indian Ocean

There are so many people on board, we have two dining areas on the ship. They are on Deck Six and Seven, on top of the others. I generally choose the upper of the two (called the "Garden Lounge") as it is a bit less "formal". Additionally, if you're lucky you can grab one of the ten or so tables that sit outside overlooking the stern and the ship's wake. Tonight I was able to join a group of staff and faculty on the starboard side just in time to watch the sunset. As we approach the equatorial doldrums, the winds have been nearly nonexistent and the seas have been glassy calm. We are currently heading just about due south tonight so the sun was setting beautifully over the starboard rail giving us a perfect view of an amazing tropical dusk. I've spent a few days at sea. At one point I made an informal count and just with my time at SEA, I had over 1300 days at sea. Add on to that various research cruises and the odd overnight ferry crossing or two and I've got pretty darn close to four years of my life on boats. I would put tonight's sunset in the top ten, it was that good. Most tropical sunsets are pretty quick but the cloud cover was full enough to hold the light for a long period resulting in a rich, watercolor effect on the smooth equatorial sea. It was absolutely sublime and I spent most of the meal just staring at the sky soaking in the beauty. Truly amazing.

 Our days since leaving India have been pretty full. Today was "B14" which means that we have had fourteen days of class for each course, each of which meets on either an "A" day or a "B" day - twenty-eight days total. The last day of classes is B23, so we are well past the half-way point now.

We had an amazing visit to India. We landed in the city of Cochin, in the Indian state of Kerla. The daytime temperatures were well over 95 degrees F with what felt like 110 percent humidity. Stepping off the ship was like walking into a slightly stale steam bath. By the standards of the country, Kerla is a relatively wealthy state and as such we didn't see the poverty and terrible crowding that characterizes much of the country. It was still quite crowded by the standards of much of the US. During our time in country, many of our students got the opportunity to travel up to the Taj Mahal and other areas outside of Kerla and they reported seeing the  huge crowds and destitution that still plagues much of the country. While it would have been nice to see some of the cultural sights of other sections of the country, I choose another option and signed up for a trekking trip to a region of Kerla called Munnar, an area to the east of Cochin in the Ghat mountain range of southern India.

Getting to Munnar was a grueling four and half hour bus ride through the endless urban area of western Kerla. The city never seemed to end and our bus slogged through traffic for the better part of three hours. We were one of the few large vehicles in a sea of small autos, motor bikes, bicycles and three-wheeled motorized rickshaws. Even here in the relatively affluent portion of the country, there were people everywhere and it was hard to judge where one community stopped and the next one started. We passed seemingly endless rows of shops, small high-rise residences and public buildings. Finally we began to see more rural type openings and small plots of banana, pineapple and coconut began to appear. The land began to rise as we entered the foothills of the Ghat mountains and traffic started to thin. Soon we were rising up steep switchbacks and looking out over increasing open views of the smoky, steaming lowlands we were leaving behind.

We climbed for the better part of an hour and left the tropical fruits behind. Replacing them were extensive tea fields that this part of India is famous for. Following a curry lunch at a local hotel, we continued upward and were soon surrounded by tea. Another half hour brought us to the end of the bus ride and a delightfully cool 85 degrees. I've never seen a tea plantation before so I have no basis of comparison, but I'll try to describe how the tea is grown here. The tree itself stands about three feet high and is planted in undulating rows that follow the contour up the slopes of the hillside to dizzying angles that seem nearly impossible to stand, much less cut leaves by hand. From some angles the fields seem to glide up and down like an ocean swell stretching out as far as the eye can see. The mountain slopes were sometimes completely covered and sometimes the tea ended with scrubby mountain vegetation or small trees growing above where the tea couldn't be planted. The whole thing was impossibly green and hard to get my mind around as it faded into the mountain mist.

Tea in the mist

Our bus dropped us off on the side of the road and the guide took our group of 39 walking right into the fields on a small foot path used by the workers on the plantation. We were trekking! As we progressed through the remainder of our day, the weather got progressively cloudier and eventually we were walking through a dense fog. This made the tea fields seem even stranger as I could look across the endless stretch of tea plants that were now disappearing into the fog. I was at the end of the line of students and I could hear voices and laughter, but at times I couldn't see another soul. Instead I just followed the narrow road into the thick fog, surrounded on all sides by dense thickets of tea. It was spooky and quite beautiful.

We walked for the better part of two hours and didn't see more than perhaps ten people the entire time. It seemed a bit strange to be so alone in a country that has 1.2 some-odd billion people in it. Eventually we came to small village and walked through and down a rough track to our accommodations for the night. We were slated to stay in tents on this trip, something some of the students had never done before. This was not so much a novelty for me, although having a staff of seven to cook, clean up and build a giant bonfire was a new camping experience for me. Usually I'm carrying the tent in myself and making mac and cheese or some other kind of backcountry culinary masterpiece. We were forced to have fresh crispy fry bread, steamed rice and vegetables and several different forms of curry. Somehow I managed to choke it all down.

The students loved the bonfire and many stayed up much later than I was willing to. Getting up to see the amazing sunrise across the mountain valley we were camped above made me glad that I had gotten to bed at a reasonable hour. Many of the students were pretty beat when we dragged them out of their tents for our 8:00 a.m. start. Those of us who were able to rise at an earlier hour were greeted to an amazing sunrise into a steep mountain valley that was just a cloud-filled space the evening before. We were at least 1000 feet above a green expanse with a small community barely visible in the far distance. Our guides informed us that the distant village was a popular shooting location for many Bollywood films. I could see why with the scenic vistas surrounding us.

Plenty of tea, but no hot water

Following a hearty breakfast, we tramped out of the camp, leaving most of our gear behind. We would be returning the same evening. We spent the entire day tromping through tea fields, transformed into beautiful green expanses with clear skies and beautiful sunshine. Our guides informed us that this was the highest elevation tea fields in the world, and they were everywhere. About half way through the day we came upon workers, high up in the tea fields cutting the upper leaves by hand. All the work is done by hand and the workers (mostly women) would fill huge sacks with tea leaves and then carry them down the winding gaps between the tea plants on their heads, steadying their burdens with one hand while the other stood out to keep their balance on the steep slopes. It was all very rustic and authentic-seeming, but a bit sad as we learned that these women are pretty much share croppers. They work the fields in exchange for a place to live on the plantation and a small wage. Good for the tea grower, not so good for the worker it seems.

Our day two audience

We completed our day, hiking down out of the high elevation fields into a local town called Vattavada. Along the way we encountered a small village with smiling kids and adults that seemed a bit bemused that a huge group of white people were tramping down from the tea fields through their little hamlet. The town of Vattavada wasn't much bigger, a crossroads with several small stores and repair shops. We spent a few minutes there and several students managed to find things to buy. Sometimes I think they just go around looking for shopping opportunities. We then boarded the bus and returned to a second night at camp. The following day we reversed our course and returned to the heat and traffic of Cochin.

I spent the remainder of the time in India in Cochin. We explored the shopping district with the unfortunate name of "Jew Town". Apparently six or seven people of Jewish descent live here among the Hindus, Buddhists and Christians. The term doesn't seem derogatory, but made me uncomfortable nonetheless - another cultural difference to experience I suppose. We walked a fair amount among the narrow crowded streets of the city and took rickshaw rides for amazingly low prices. A trip from the center of Cochin around the peninsula to the island where the Explorer was docked took the better part of thirty minutes. Total cost? About $2. An extra dollar tip seemed to be appreciated.

While we didn't really do anything else all that interesting, we ate some great food. As I mentioned at the start of this thing, our food can be repetitious, so we enjoyed dropping into a local place and getting a steaming plate of rice, curry and roasted vegetables. The local custom is to eat all your food with your right hand, no cutlery. Your left hand is used for other things, and it is considered very rude to touch food or hand someone anything with the left hand. It's little customs like this that keep you constantly on your toes to not accidentally insult someone. In the predominantly Buddhist countries, you had to make sure you never aimed the sole of your foot towards someone. Each place has it's own customs and practices. It's fun to try to learn them and attempt to fit in for however brief our visit may be.

We are now three days from Mauritius where we will only be able to visit for a day. I've organized a group to go snorkeling on the north side of the island and this will likely be the subject of my next blog. Until next time….

Inle Lake

Our final day in Central Myanmar was focused on an exploration of Inle Lake, a large body of water in the central highlands of this part of the country. The day started early as we pulled away from our hotel at sunrise to arrive fifteen minutes at a small pier crowded with wooden boats. I had never seen a boat designed like this before. They were wooden boats built something like a flat-bottomed dory but much narrower. Each boat was about twenty-five feet long and only four or so wide with four passenger seats and a seat in the rear for the pilot. Each had a relative large and noisy one-stroke engine with a three foot shaft rigged so that it could be tilted up to run right at the surface - obviously an engineering adaptation for running in very shallow water. The engine had no box or any other sort of cover so all the working parts were right out in the weather. The design was pretty simple and looked like it hadn't changed in eighty or ninety years. They kind of looked like they would work well in a Model A Ford. Every engine pretty much looked identical. In such a remote area, they must have limited access to spare parts and having all one design (much like the modified tractors we had seen the previous day) must be a strategy to keep things in working repair.

Our transport for the day

We piled our group into a fleet of seven boats and headed off down the channel into the lake proper. It was a cold, but gorgeous morning and as we sped across the lake we saw groups of the exact same boats without passengers. Instead, single men were using the boats to either scoop up lake vegetation or for fishing. The vegetation was piled high in bright green mounds, filling the boats. Apparently it is not for human food, but instead it is dried and sold as fertilizer on local farms. Some of the boatmen were out in open water on the lake gathering wild vegetation. Others were tending floating farms, anchored by bamboo polls driven by hand into the lake bottom and held together by nets and lines. Everything was done by hand. These boats didn't even have the "modern" convenience of a seventy-year old engine.

The fishing was equally human-powered. Each fishing boat held a conical net that was deployed alongside the boat. The fisher would then stand precariously at the bow and slap the water with his oar to drivethe fish into the net which was then hauled back onboard and dumped into the center of the boat. There was no live well or any other convenience to hold the fish. It was all incredibly labor intensive.

Inle Lake fisher

We crossed the lake and visited a couple of temples on small islands. Each temple had a small market with locals hawking hand-made clothing and small wooden carvings. Jewelry was also featured prominently and as it turned out, locally made. We learned this as we were treated to visits to several craft shops including a silversmith, a paper-making facility and wood carvers. Of course there were opportunities to buy these crafts at each place. What amazed me the most was how these folks lived out on these small towns on the lake. Each dwelling was suspended above the water's surface on stilts or stone foundations set into the shallow lake water. Sometimes, dirt had been piled up to make pathways between buildings, but often the buildings were connected by wooden bridges. It was an amazing way to live.

Home sweet home

Our last stop was the most amazing. We navigated tight channels between stilt buildings to arrive at  a place called the Inn Paw Khone silk weaving village. This was a community of forty or so woman who created silk by harvesting plant fibers, hand-spinning them into threads, dyeing the thread with dyes mixed on site and then weaving the silk fabric on large wooden looms. The entire process is done by hand with the only power involved supplying the occasional bare lightbulb above a loom. You can imagine standing in the exact same place two hundred years ago watching the exact same process. Simply incredible. The women who live and work in the village live in small rooms in buildings attached to the weaving facility via wooden foot bridges. They live their entire lives surrounded by water and never really go more than a couple of hundred feet in any one direction.

Spinning silk thread by hand

We ate lunch in a small tourist restaurant attached to the village. The fare was simple, but quite tasty. Mostly rice and vegetables in light curry sauces. Lunch was quick as we had to thread our way out of the lake-bound village, motor our way across the lake and reboard our bus. Following an hour and a half on the bus, we were back at the airport and headed back to Yangon.

It was an amazing visit and I was struck by the fact that we are probably witnessing the end of a long era for this country. With the opening up of Myanmar to western tourists, development can't be far behind. Already we were seeing evidence of western influences in Yangon with advertisements for soft drinks and other products. Apparently real estate speculation is beginning to drive up prices as local business men anticipate investment in the country. Pretty soon I think, Myanmar is going to jump from the nineteenth century right into the twenty-first. I imagine if I have the privilege of seeing this place again in ten years it will be a changed place.

As I write this, we are two days from arriving in India. The transitions are amazingly quick. We have had two days of classes with only two remaining before we are immersed in yet another culture. Coincidently, my school back in Utah is on their Spring Break and a small group of students and faculty are visiting India. It would be amazing to see them, but while we will be in India at the same time, we will literally be a subcontinent apart. I hope their experience will be as amazing as what I've already experienced. We'll be in India for nearly a week, so I won't be posting again for a bit. Thanks for reading my ramblings!