Tuesday, June 30, 2009

also

Ahoy,

I wanted to mention the skateboards. There are none. Okay. I saw two. But that means the benches never need those breaks on them like in the States. They never need those no skateboarding signs. The city never has to get mad at skateboarders for breaking their benches. They like futbol.

And the age of the city. Everything is old. They don't believe in tearing things down. They usually renovate or restore. This is in such contrast to the States. Before something is outdated or even reached the end of its lifetime, it gets torn down for the sake of making something more modern. It's 'old' form was probably still functioning, still usable, but, no, it needs to be 'new' and 'modern.' And that new structure is probably going to be out of date once it's completed.

We'll be in Italy tomorrow.

lonesomely bananas,
JT

Monday, June 29, 2009

time

Ahoy,

I wrote this essay thinger for my writing class. It's supposed to be a memoir type piece. And everybody else thought it was 'depressing' at the end. And I'm just sitting there giggling to myself because that was kind of what I wanted to achieve. They were all 'It ended abruptly and the reader is left wondering...' And that was kind of exactly what I wanted to achieve. So I don't know now if they think I'm a sad person or if I'm conceited and can't take criticism because I didn't really say I was going to change it. I had fun writing it, and I had fun making it different from everyone else's. It felt kind of rebellious.

-------------------------------------------

I think of this as my quarter life crisis. Frankly, I’m astonished and rather peeved that they never told me about it. Why don’t they ever tell us about this? I mean, they tell you about the mid-life crisis. They tell you about the crow’s feet that stop being exotic delicacies. They tell you about the exploding waistlines that become more permanent than Thanksgiving dinner aftermath. You see the balding middle-aged men driving fast convertibles. Aging happens, but, according to the grown-ups, not until later, right? Not until you’re a floppity-jillion years old, right? Wrong.

Aging, I discovered, happens at the end of high school, at the ripe age of eighteen. Okay, so botox and liposuction were not needed, but I aged. While everyone else was in a rush to get out of the hallowed halls of public high school, I was about to sign my death sentence. It was one of those sweltering Chicago days where all you want to do is stick your head in the freezer. Tom Skilling, local weather God, was warning everyone to stay inside. I had just procrastinated my college decision to the last possible day I had with which to decide. Our computer seat, covered in some sort of fake leathery material, was sticking to me and I couldn’t keep myself still enough to stay in front of the computer. But I knew my day of reckoning had come. Skin cancer and cataracts spelled impending doom on the horizon. Blinding sun and four month periods of never-ending drizzle were in my forecast. All through high school, I would repeat to myself and everyone else that I would never go to school in California. Never, ever in this or any other universe. I suppose it was a false proclamation. Moving the cursor to dangle over ‘yes,’ I closed my eyes as if to wince in pain. Electronic confirmations had no possibility of getting lost in the mail, I immediately realized. With the simple click of a button, I had sealed my fate for my next four years in Berkeley, California. Dread latched itself onto my heart like Wile E. Coyote to a branch on the side of a cliff. The rest of that summer, I spent avoiding Berkeley like the plague.

I lived that summer like there was no tomorrow. It would be safe to say that I regressed to my summers of yore. Though I now had territory that extended beyond our single city block, my summer came to resemble that of my four-year old cousin’s. There’s nothing like childhood in the summer. Now, when I say ‘summer’ – I mean ‘summer’ in its purest form. I mean that ‘school’s out for summer/ school’s out forever’ spirit. Playtime was happiness eternal, and the summers were all about playtime. Days were filled with sinking and swimming at the pool down the street and coming home pruney and stinking of chlorine. I loved it. Nights brought a refreshing batch of longan regards of my uncle that flip-flopped between career choices like a frog with lily pads. I knew all about the essence of summer that was captured in the sun-block I bathed in, the outside I brought home evidenced by the footprint shaped dirt stains on the kitchen tiles, the lightning bugs I made friends with. Summer used to be about unplanned afternoons at the beach building sandcastles and fairytales. Summer used to be about playing tennis for so epically long that my racket became an extension of my arm. Summer used to be about chasing the sun and laughing off the heat.

That summer would be my last. While I knew the end was waiting on the West coast, I bid farewell to my last carefree days, my last vacation without obligation, my last summer- gone by in no time. Bittersweet good-byes and tearful hugs met me at the end of my last summer. It was to be the epitome of summers – a summer to end all summers. Perhaps that was my mistake. Perhaps I had too much fun at once, as if I had used up my lifetime of summertime fun allotment all too quickly. I didn’t realize until years later, that I had lived my last summer. I hadn’t known it at the time, but my following summer would go down in the history books as the ‘summer of the missing summer,’ and the next would bring me too far from home. It seemed that summers like the ones of yore would never cross my path again. I hadn’t known it at the time, but I don’t think it would have been as magical as it was had I known that that summer would be my last.

----------------------------------------

shockingly early,
JT

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Gibraltar


Ahoy,

I don't remember the last time I slept past 8am. It was sometime before I left home. I probably won't sleep past 8am until I go back home. Looking forward to it.

homesickly bored,
JT

Saturday, June 27, 2009

bye, Spain

Ahoy,

We've been docked al Puerto de Cadiz(accent on the 'a') for the past four days or so. We're going to leave at 2000 hours. It went by so quickly, as opposed to when we're at sea when it goes by at a snail's pace. I explored a lot on my own, just wandering around the streets, and I followed a walking guide for half a day. I know some people frown on that wandering on my own thing - especially when I'm traveling in a foreign country and so obviously a tourist. I'm fine. I'm in one piece. I haven't lost my sunglasses or my water bottle.

1. Whatever little Spanish I retained from high school was pretty helpful. And I'm glad I know some Spanish. I have no idea what I'll do in all the other countries. I guess I'll find out just how helpful knowing Spanish in Spain is when I can compare this experience to not knowing any other language in all the other countries.

2. Depending on the kindness of strangers was a strategy that worked out pretty well for me. Strangers are kind.

3. Spainiards stare at me. I look so obviously foreign. Sometimes it looked like they were curious, and sometimes they smiled and said 'Hola.' There were a few 'Ni hao's. Sometimes I can't tell if people say that to be nice and they want to seem worldly by speaking your language or if they're making fun of you. The latter is usually the case in the States, but I'm really not sure of the racial stigmas here.

4. There were about 4 shop-owners of Asian heritage I saw. They stared at me too. I wonder what their story is, and what it's like to be Asian-Spanish.

5. This city is so walkable. It's so easy to be on the other side of the city and not even realize it. Everything is so close together. What looks like a far walk on the map is so much closer than you think. I like that.

6. Sevilla is 1 hour and 45 minutes away from Cadiz by bus. I visited for a day. The architecture there is so much more impressive than in Cadiz. Buildings are so much more ornate and intricately carved. It is just as walkable, but it's streets were a little wider. There were lots of fabric stores and bead stores. They have a swanky library too.

7. So they're not all about the siesta, but it does exist. It's such a phenomenon to me. Shop-owners close down and people go home from work. It's like a ghost town. Streets start filling up again around 2000. And families are out strolling around midnight - including babies in carriages. This is such a phenomenon.

8. I don't have much to say about the food. It wasn't that impressive. I don't really like seafood, which was most of what it was, but if you do - then more power to you.

9. I like that the ship was so empty because everyone else was out partying.

10. I watched Transformers: la Venganza... in Spanish. The theatre was pretty empty, while I'm told it broke some record that Harry Potter once held in the states.

I had fun, and it turns out not everything in high school was useless.

exhaustively UV absorbent,
JT

Monday, June 22, 2009

hello, home

Ahoy central timers,

Chicago time + 7 hours = past the middle of the Atlantic where I am
Played with LEGOS today! LEGO Mindstorms!
We passed land two days ago. The Azores that are smack dab in the middle of the Atlantic where the plates meet. Civilization! There were lots of dolphin sightings. We also passed some garbage earlier that day. We're set to arrive in Spain on Wednesday. I don't know what day it is anymore. We have school every day - even on weekends. There's no indicator of which day of the week it is. The schedules and mealtimes are the same every day.
The food is getting worse. Potatoes are on the menu every meal. Pasta is on the menu every meal except for breakfast. I like potatoes and pasta, but I don't know if I still will after this ordeal. They made this steamed rice one time. It was terrible. It was so salty. How do you mess up steamed rice? It was so salty. Steamed rice does not need salt. I imagine it was one of those pranks where the top of the salt shaker is screwed off. And the tofu was fried and dry. Overfried. They had fries today and everybody was excited. I overheard one girl saying how today, for the first time, she felt full. Seriously? You got full on fries. Seriously?
It's only 1430 at home.

sinkingly subdued,
JT

Thursday, June 18, 2009

school has commenced

Ahoy landlubbers,

We just left the port in Halifax. There was an Irish bagpiping band. It was not very exciting. We're not even stopping in Ireland. We did this safety drill thinger before we left. They lined us all up like cattle in orange safety vests. Moo.

Their website says they usually have 400 students in the summers, but it lied, because there are 721. I get the feeling that I will not know anybody really well and shouldn't even bother to because there are so many people and the likelihood that I will never see them again is high even if we are on the same ship.

Everybody's freaking out about getting seasick. They provide pills for people for it. But they just make people drowsy. Go to sleep or be seasick. Pick your poison.

And the food is mediocre. My dorm had better food. Okay, okay. I've only had one meal so far. Stay tuned for later developments in food.

lacking entertainment,
JT

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

bye, Halifax

Ahoy landlubbers,

We just left the port in Halifax. There was an Irish bagpiping band. It was not very exciting. We're not even stopping in Ireland. We did this safety drill thinger before we left. They lined us all up like cattle in orange safety vests. Moo.

Their website says they usually have 400 students in the summers, but it lied, because there are 721. I get the feeling that I will not know anybody really well and shouldn't even bother to because there are so many people and the likelihood that I will never see them again is high even if we are on the same ship.

Everybody's freaking out about getting seasick. They provide pills for people for it. But they just make people drowsy. Go to sleep or be seasick. Pick your poison.

And the food is mediocre. My dorm had better food. Okay, okay. I've only had one meal so far. Stay tuned for later developments in food.

lacking entertainment,
JT

Monday, June 15, 2009

hi, boat

Ahoy,

Can you see it? It's peeking over the top of Berth #20. MV Explorer (formal name).

passenger capacity: 836
students enrolled for summer 2009: 721
schools represented: 299
gender ratio: 23% male, 77% female
pool: 1
dining halls: 2
classrooms: 9

hi, Halifax


Ahoy,


Hi, hostel. The international one, not the backpackers' one. It's really not too shabby. Bathroom appears to be pretty clean. I can't tell if it's because it's cleaned often or because it isn't used often. Hostel also has free wifi.
Hi, waste manager. Left to right is trash, organics, recyclables, and mixed paper. Yay for recycling! Street seem pretty clean, and also pretty empty. By the port here, there are very many hills. Like San Francisco. I hate hills.
Hi, tennis court. Exclusively for the use of Westin Hotel guests. But it wasn't locked, so I wandered in anyway. And then I couldn't figure out how to jam the door back in. Court is in pretty good shape -- no big cracks or anything. Net apparatus was a bit rusty.
Hi, gas station. Parking downtown is 10 minutes to a quarter. Gas is $1.06 per liter. Weather is in Celsius. Time is in military. Weight is in kilogram. Signs are in French and English, so are announcements.
Hi, Little Ceasars. I walked in just for the novelty of it. Servings are smaller. The guy said their large is America's medium. I crossed the street to the grocery store. Everything is smaller. Boxes are smaller. Bags are smaller. Portions are smaller. Five granola bars per box instead of six.

hauntingly homesick,
JT

Sunday, June 14, 2009

snail mail to me

Ahoy,
PORT
ADDRESS OF PORT AGENT
SUGGESTED AIRMAIL DATE
Cadiz, Spain 
Phone: 34 956 276 112
Fax: 34 956 276 766
PEREZ Y CIA S.L.
C/ Ecuador, 2
11007 Cadiz, SPAIN
June 10
Civitavecchia, Italy 
Phone: 39 0766 508 811
a Fax: 39 0766 913 116
CAMBIASO & RISSO SRL
Largo Cavour N° 6, Int 4
00053 Civitavecchia, ITALY
June 17
Naples, Italy 
Phone: 39 081 551 2211
a Fax: 39 081 551 2947
KLINGENBERL SRL
Piazzale Stazione Marittima
Inteno Porto Napoli
80133 NAPLES, ITALY
June 19
Dubrovnik, CROATIA 
Phone: 385 20 313 355
Fax: 385 20 419 040
ATLANTAGENT
Obala Stjepana Radica 26
PO Box 40
HR - 20000 DUBROVNIK, CROATIA
June 23
Piraeus (Athens), Greece
Phone: 30 210 4146 600
Fax: 30 210 4224 910
ISS CRUISE SERVICES
55 Polydefkous Street
PIRAEUS 18545, GREECE
June 29
Istanbul, Turkey 
Phone: 90 212 275 1870
Fax: 90 212 275 1865
I.T.S.
Büyükdere cad. Kaya Aldogan sok. 12/1
INTERNATIONAL TRAVEL SERVICES
80300 Zincirlikuyu, ISTANBUL, TURKEY
July 3
Varna, Bulgaria 
Phone: 359 52 633 433
Fax: 359 52 603 290
INFLOT-1 LTD
20, Tzar Ivan Shishman Str.
PO Box 181
VARNA 9000, BULGARIA
July 10
Alexandria, Egypt
Phone: 203 486 5572
Fax: 203 487 6361
Worms Alexandria Cargo Services
47 Sultan Hussein Street
Khartoum Square, Azarita
Alexandria, EGYPT
July 16
Casablanca, MOROCCO 
Phone: 212 61 29 8894
Fax: 212 22 484793
LASRY MAROC S.A.
30 Avenue des Far
20000 Casablanca, MAROC
July 27

outrageously overpacked,
JT

Friday, June 5, 2009

bring less things, bring back more

Ahoy,

I'm determined to pack lightly. Yes, I declare that I intend to pack lightly. Of course, I say that every time I come home. And every time, I am over the weight limit. But I need to make the point that most of my luggage weight is in books and other random items. I actually have very little weight in clothing... or so I like to think...

But you see, the problem isn't that when I go to school, I bring a lot of stuff. No. The problem is that when I am at school, I accumulate a lot of stuff. And where does that stuff go? Home. Where do I plan on taking stuff I accumulate? Home. When I accumulate stuff, what do I plan on doing with it? Home. And that accumulates to a lot of items that accumulate to overweight luggage. I'm going to accumulate stuff this summer. It's terribly tragic.

despairingly overweight,
JT

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

test

Ahoy,

I will be giving this tool a spin on my trips this summer. This is where you will be able to locate me.

exploringly lost,
JT