26,000 Words Later...

Well, folks, this is it. My last night on the MV Explorer! Last post…so, here goes. (sorry in advance if it gets a little mushy)

I’m full of mixed emotions right now.  I honestly can’t believe how quickly this summer has flown by!  After 68 days, 9 countries, and countless memories, I’m going back a changed person. Cheesy, but true.  I can’t wait to go home and share all my stories/pictures with everyone, though! Carmella and I made this cute video of this summer that I’ll definitely be showing to anyone willing to sit down long enough.

For those of you who’ve stuck around reading my blog all summer, thank you!  It took me awhile to decide if I even wanted to write one of these things, but I’m so glad I did.  Even now, I’ve gone back to read some of my earlier posts and realized how much I’d forgotten about.  If there’s any story you want to know more about, just ask.  For every story I wrote about, there’s probably about a million details I left out.  And for every port, there’s probably at least another few stories…including the ‘not appropriate for my blog’ stories, which I would be happy to tell ;]

Most importantly, I want to thank my parents for the experience of a lifetime.  For the past year and a half, the two of you have dealt with me talking about Semester at Sea non-stop.  For the past two months, you guys have gotten more ‘I need more money’ phone calls than I’m sure you ever wanted.  And for the next two weeks, before I head back to school, you will be subjected to looking at an obscene number of pictures, listening to a ridiculous amount of stories, and pretending to like an outrageous number of gifts.  I appreciate everything more than you know.

Tomorrow, we dock in Norfolk, VA.  From there, I grab my bags (or struggle awkwardly with them until I find some guy who’s only taking one bag home to help me), head through customs (where I’m sure my not-so-subtle last name will get me a lucky “random” check), and say my goodbyes (where I’ll surely ruin my super tough reputation and cry like a baby).

Wow. I can’t believe it’s over. Back to reality…

To Study or Not To Study...

Hello, loyal readers/people with nothing else better to do!

Today was officially the last day of classes…and it was glorious! I’ve still got exams left, but I’m currently ignoring that little fact while I watch 500 Days of Summer on our closed-circuit TV.  We get four movies every day, and most days the movies/weird ass documentaries they choose suck…but today, the day before the Global Studies exam, they decide to play a decent one.  Of course, they would do that to us.  Thank you, evil movie-picker outers, who clearly DON'T have an exam to study for. 

The past few days on the ship have been pretty chill.  Most of us have had a lot of work since classes are winding down, but we’ve had a few activities going on around the ship too.  The other night, we had the Shipboard Auction where people spent obscene amounts of money for things like getting to steer the ship for 30 minutes, blowing the horn as we pull into Norfolk, 24 hours of unlimited internet (which is like GOLD on this ship), and being able to pick the dinner menu one night.  Although I didn’t bid on anything, it was pretty amusing to watch as people spent ridiculous amounts of their parents’ money.  Two guys even spent 400 bucks to pie our Global Studies teacher in the face!  While I’m sure that a few seconds of shoving Dr. Bowler’s face into whipped cream would be rewarding…I think my parents would’ve disowned me for spending that kinda money on something like that.

The night after that, Carmella and I went out on the top deck to watch the meteor shower.  The astronomy professor got them to turn off the ship’s lights from 11pm-2am, so we could see the stars.  In the hour that I was out there, I saw 5 shooting stars!  I’m not quite sure what the rules on the whole wishing on a shooting star thing are, but I sucked at making wishes.  That sounds like a weird thing to suck at, but it's true.  I would think about it for a bit beforehand and decide on what I wanted to wish for, but when I actually saw the star flying across the sky, my thoughts weren’t ‘I want a great junior year!’…they were more like ‘Oh my God! Is that a shooting star!? I think so! Wait, I’m not sure! It could be a plane! It’s moving fast! Everyone else is ohhing and awwing, so it must be a star! Oh….it’s gone.’  Anyways, I’m hoping that my thoughts before and after seeing the shooting star count as wishes.  If not, I need to work on my wish-making skills.

Alright. I’m off to study…or kinda sorta look over my notes and pretend I’m studying so I can feel better about myself.  Home in 6 days! (P.S. I honestly don’t know how Columbus did this whole sail-to-America thing for so damn long. We’ve only been on this ship for 5 days, and I’m already whining. I want LAND already, damnit!)

Morocco, Part 4: 1000 Camels for Your Love

The next day, we woke up early to go to this big shopping square in Marrakech.  We only had three hours before we had to head back to Casablanca, so Kallyn and I split from the rest of the group and power-shopped. Of all the places I’ve been to, Morocco had some of the coolest stuff by far. And it was all so cheap!

As we were walking along, I spotted a really pretty scarf that I knew my mom would love.  I went into the shop and started inspecting it, when the clerk came out from the back and started talking to me.  He asked what my name was and where I was from…the usual questions.  Then, he started saying what a gentle person I was…a little strange…but whatever. If that’s what gets me a good price, I’ll take it. As he and I were bargaining, he grabbed my hand and put in on his chest over his heart and said, ‘Your name will forever be etched in my heart.’ Oh jeez. Not another weirdo. 

It was super hot, so Kallyn and I were both working up a sweat while we were walking around.  As the clerk and I are still bargaining, he wipes something from my forehead. I was slightly embarrassed, but wanted to know what I had on my face, so I asked…and he replied with, ‘You were sweating, my love. I wipe it for you.’ Oh God. Did he just wipe my SWEAT from my face with his bare hands!?! That’s DISGUSTING! Is this how they show affection here? By wiping their beloved’s sweat? Kallyn and I both awkwardly laughed as I muttered something like, ‘Oh…you don’t need to do that’...but despite my attempts to dodge his hand, he KEPT DOING IT! I was sufficiently creeped out/grossed out/wanted to leave….but I wanted the scarf really badly still. Finally, I managed to get him to come down to the price I wanted for it, and Kallyn and I headed out as quickly as we could.  As we were power-walking/running away, he kept yelling, ‘Goodbye, gentle Elaina. I would give 1000 camels to have you forever!’ Aw, shucks. 1000 camels!? For me!? No guy has ever said such a beautiful thing! I was so taken by his flagrant display of affection that I told Kallyn sayonara, and headed back to him. Alright. Not really. But if he’d said 1001 camels…I might’ve.

As we recovered from the awkward scarf-buying ordeal, Kallyn and I wandered around buying souvenirs.  As she was buying a Moroccan CD, the man selling it to her overheard me say how I wanted to get a henna tattoo before we left.  He started exclaiming about how his sister did henna and to follow him.  So, we did, and he led us out into the middle of the square to a lady who he claimed was his sister.  I still had a few things to buy, so I told her that I only had 50 dirham to spend and asked her to show me what I could get for that.  She pulled out her little book of tattoos and pointed to a picture of a scorpion.  Um…I don’t think so. I was thinking more along the lines of cutesy and girly…not a bug.  I started shaking my head and said, ‘Is there anything else? How about a flower?’ She replied with, ‘No. For 50 dirham I can only give you scorpion. It’s nice scorpion.’  Yea right, lady. I’m NOT getting a fricken scorpion on my hand.  I muttered, ‘What about a SMALL flower? It can be REALLY small if you want! Less ink than the scorpion!’ One of the other henna tattoo ladies started saying, ‘Yea, just do small flower!’ My lady, who was clearly not having any of that just kept shaking her head and said, ‘No FLOWER! I only do SCORPION for 50 dirham!’ I turned my head to ask Kallyn if we should find someone else, and while my head was turned, the lady grabbed my hand and started drawing!  After 30 seconds of me repeating, ‘Wait! Can I have a flower!?!’…I just gave up. And before I knew it, I had a scorpion on my hand.  And, because I’m such a smart gal, I had asked her to use the long-staying henna when we had been negotiating. So instead of this thing being on my hand for 5-7 days, I get ‘What the hell is on your hand?’ looks for 2-3 weeks! Lucky me!

After paying for my scorpion, we started walking around trying to find a tajine (this cool pot thing that they use for cooking) for Kallyn. We walked by a clothing store, and the clerk tried to get us to come in.  We didn’t need any clothes, and we were both pretty broke at this point, which we told him…but he replied with, ‘Come in! Take pictures in clothes!’ Hmm…alright. Why not? We’ve got some time to kill…and almost no money to spend, so this will give us something to do for a bit.  We went into the store and as the dude was pulling down an outfit, he said, ‘This one for you, Laina.’ Since I hadn’t told him my name, I was slightly weirded out…until I remembered that along with my scorpion, the henna lady also put my named in Arabic on my hand.  Phew.

The clerk told us his name was Aziz, and started to put the outfit on me.  It was super complicated.  First he tied the top half of the cloth around my chest, and then proceeded to go between my legs with the rest of it, which made for some very awkward few seconds.  All the while, he was muttering, ‘I like you very much, Laina.’…to which I responded with, ‘Umm…thanks?’ Meanwhile, Kallyn spent the entire time giggling and taking pictures of the strange encounter.  After the weird between the legs thing, I put my arms through some random holes.  Then he tied a pink belt around me and that was it. I had no idea what I looked like, but by the look on Kallyn’s face, I knew it was pretty hilarious.
 
At this point, Aziz was getting a little touchy feely.  We took the picture, and he didn’t take his arm from around my waist.  Before I knew it, he started kissing my cheek and saying that I could be his Fatima (who I think was a queen or maybe Mohammad’s wife? Something along those lines…). I managed to pull away and look in a mirror…and boy was I a sight. And even though I’d had no intention of buying it before…I figured it’d make a pretty funny Halloween costume…so I asked if I could have the outfit for free. He looked at Kallyn and said, ‘She can have it for free…if I can keep her!’ Keep me!?! Do I look like a fricken dog to you!? Kallyn, being the great friend that she is, just started nodding and saying ‘She’s all yours!’ Then, I shamelessly proceeded to make sad faces, hoping that would entice him to let me have it.  He said he couldn’t give it to me for free since he didn’t own the shop, but then pointed to his lips and said that if I gave him a kiss, he’d pay for it.  All he wants is a kiss!? SURE!...Okay, not really. Unfortunately for him…and my wallet, I have way more self-respect than that, so I handed him 5 dollars and 50 dirham (about 11 bucks total) and called it even.  Halloween, here I come.  For future reference, I’ll be the chick in the super un-sexy blue drape. 

Only 8 more days until we're back in the US! I'll be sure to keep you all posted on anything interesting!

Morocco, Part 3: Camel Toe? More Like, Camel Crotch.

Alright. Time to finish telling you about Morocco!

After our night at the nomad camp and our breakfast of tea, hard-boiled eggs, and bread, we made our way to the bajillion camels waiting for us outside of the camp.  I wasn’t particularly excited to be going on what we were told was a 2 hour camel trek after my uncomfortable 10 minute camel ride at the pyramids in Egypt. Thankfully, though, these camels were much smaller and the saddles, at first sit, were substantially more comfortable than the other ones had been.

We had a little caravan of four camels. Sarah up front, Pete on the second camel, I got the third, and Alex, wearing his turban-type thing and looking pretty legit, holding up the back. My camel’s name was Azuzu, and he was pretty good. He didn’t make one noise. Pete’s, on the other hand, was going nuts and crapping every two seconds, which I got to watch the entire time.  After about 20 minutes of camel trekking, I was beginning to realize that despite the increased comfort of the saddles, the fact that we were going to be riding the camel for 2 hours was going to leave us pretty damn sore. About halfway through, I decided to break the rules of Camel Riding 101 and sat Indian style on the saddle.  That was probably really dumb, but I didn’t fall off so it was a success!  Our trek ended up lasting about an hour and a half in all, and we were ready to be off of it by the end. 

We got back on the buses, camel-stench and all, and headed back to Marrakech, with less stops this time since we told our tour guide we wanted to get there as quickly as we could.  As we were riding along, I began to see droplets of rain on the windows. All I could think was, is it seriously raining in the SAHARA DESERT?! First palm trees, and now rain?  Did I get jipped on this whole desert thing or what?
Once we got to our hotel in Marrakech, I made a beeline for the shower so I could wash away all the nature/camel nastiness.  From there, my friends and I headed to the supermarket down the street to pick up some snacks.  As we were heading to the register, a Moroccan man approached us with a 100 dirham bill in his hand.  Oh jeez.  Why is he waving his money at us?? Does he think we’re prostitutes?!? Boy, put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and all of a sudden you’re a whore. 

Before we could walk away, though, he asked if we would buy him beer. What the hell? Why does he need us to by him beer? Then, he pointed to the men guarding the alcohol section and muttered, ‘Ramadan.’  Ohhh.  We’d seen them checking people’s IDs before they went into the alcohol section to make sure that they weren’t Muslim because Ramadan was the next day, and they weren’t allowed to drink. Gosh, that sucks.  So, we grabbed his 100, bought him some beer, and went back to his place where we converted to Islam and celebrated Ramadan.  Okay. Not really. More like, we muttered our ‘Hell no’s’ and headed to the register.  It’s not like Ramadan came out of nowhere. If this crappy Muslim didn’t stock up on contraband booze before the religious holiday, then he doesn’t deserve to get any now!  Dumbass. After our supermarket stop, we headed to Pizza Hut, grabbed a couple pizzas, and headed back to the hotel where we spent our last night in port hanging out. 

HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY, DANIEL!

I hope Mom got you strippers like I suggested! If not, don't worry...when you come visit me in Providence this year, I'll be sure to take you to this great little place called Foxy Lady. Word on the street is that when they're not busy having Bible study sessions (which is the only reason I ever go), they turn into a strip joint. News to me. Never say I wasn't a good big sister!

More about Morocco when I finish my bio paper!