UVA Today Blogs: Semester at Sea

Hey there, blog readers

The MV Explorer recently spent 3 days in Egypt and is now en route to Greece. Here are 2 entries from voyagers about their recent experiences – one in Egypt and the other on the ship.

PHOTOS >

1. Rebecca Hantman and her friend Jason take in the desert sights.

2. SAS students make their own pyramid in Giza, Egypt.

FROM MARY JOHNSTON, SEMESTER AT SEA LIBRARIAN – U,Va,

Bibliotheca Alexandrina

I’m a librarian, and I love visiting libraries. So when the Semester at Sea administration announced that we were heading to Alexandria, I was thrilled. Alexandria, Egypt, had been home to an ancient library and is considered to be the place where libraries began.

The ancient library of Alexandria was founded in the 3^rd century BC. We don’t exactly know how, but by 700 AD, the library had been completely destroyed. The Egyptian government, with the help of UNESCO, has built a new, high-tech library near the site of the historic library.

Since opening in 2002, the new library – the Bibliotheca Alexandria – has become a popular tourist destination. According to the library web site, it hosts more than 800,000 visitors each year. As soon as our ship was cleared after docking in Alexandria, I ran off to see the great library.

Not many libraries charge admission, but this one does. I paid my 10 Egyptian pounds (about US $2) to walk into this striking building on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea. Just like with U.S. libraries, the library catalog is online, librarians offer assistance at reference desks on each level, and copy centers are available. Other services include a library for the blind, a rare books room, map collection, children’s library, exhibit spaces, planetarium, and the Internet Archive – “a complete snapshot of all web pages on every web site from 1996 until today.”

The library is huge and has been built to hold millions of books, though many of the shelves remain open. The main reading room covers 8 cascading levels under a glass-paneled, angled roof. Outside it looks as if the library’s roof comes up out of the sea.

I spent an afternoon wandering through the stacks and the exhibits and considered myself lucky to have the opportunity to visit this new, yet ancient, library. To find out more about the library or to search the library catalog, visit them online at www.bibalex.org

FROM RACHEL MOST, ANTHROPOLOGY PROFESSOR – U.Va.

From Italy to Croatia, Adriatic is sure to beat ya…

We’re somewhere between Alexandria and Pireaus…

It didn’t make CNN, but today we held the “Sea Olympics,” featuring such events as synchronized swimming, a lip sync contest, the limbo, art contest, volleyball, a tug of war and mashed potato sculpting. And the headline above was the team slogan of the Adriatic Sea.

All of the seas competed (each hallway has a sea name, like Bering, Red, Baltic and Caribbean). The question of what to name the Faculty and Staff came up since we don’t all live together. We earned the name the Dead Sea (you can likely figure out why). It was a fun and entertaining event after we had spent 3 days in Egypt and had begun sailing to Greece.

It was fun to see the halls come together and show such spirit. Amazing that in 7 weeks students from dozens of colleges and universities have formed their own new campus at sea. For the opening ceremonies, students packed the Union (the large lecture hall) wearing team colors, headbands and even life jackets (which quickly had to be returned to the cabins as they are not permitted to be removed). Team captains paraded in with beautifully painted banners on sheets supplied by the crew. And while the whole day was packed with lots of laughs, the creativity and many talents of the 583 students shined. These talents include singing, dancing, improvisation, art and flexibility — for the limbo.

The winner was the Baltic Sea. Their prize is the privilege of being the first to claim passports in Athens and the first to disembark in Norfolk just 20 days from now. It’s a bit hard to believe how much time has gone by and how little time is left: only two more ports to sail into and depart from, only four more class periods — 20 more days total, 12 of which will be spent crossing the Atlantic. Personally, I think it will take me a long time to process all that I have experienced and I very much look forward to doing that.

PHOTOS (Courtesy of Rachel Most) >

1. Students line up at the Explorer’s Field Office desk to sign up for tours in Egypt.

2. View from the ship departing Italy

Hi, readers

In the past 36 hours, I’ve heard from several voyagers about how the shipboard community learned of the diversion away from Turkey and toward Egypt. Thinking about everyone aboard the Explorer — with whom I traveled for nearly 6 weeks — I’m relieved to hear about the change. I wish them a safe landing and happy tidings in Egypt.

Here are updates from 2 voyagers: Rachel Most, professor of anthropology at U.Va., and Carolyn McCall, a lifelong learner from Ames, Iowa. I’m grateful to both of them for contributing their thoughts and perspectives on this recent turn of events.

RACHEL MOST - ANTHROPOLOGY PROFESSOR AT U.Va.

As most of you reading this are aware, our trip to Istanbul was cancelled due to the tragic events in the residential area of Gungoren. Yesterday was an unusual day on the ship as we all waited to hear what would happen.

The wait began at 8 a.m. with an announcement over the ship’s loud speaker that our plans were up in the air, and that we would learn at around 10 a.m. EST whether or not we were going to Istanbul. This, of course, led to lots of speculation. Would we go anyway and, if so, would we be safe? If not, where would we go? Cyprus? Crete? Seychelle Islands? Alexandria? Bulgaria?

I think most of us faculty encouraged students not to speculate and not to spread rumors but to just wait. At around 19:00 hours ship time, an announcement was made that we would learn of the decision in an hour – at 20:00 hours. Meanwhile, it was impossible not to notice that the ship was practically making a U-turn; it seemed to most of us that Istanbul was no longer on the itinerary.

At 20:00, the Union (the large meeting hall on Deck 6) was packed. A few minutes later, Executive Dean Jill Wright announced that we would not be going to Istanbul; rather, we would be at sea all day Tuesday and dock in Alexandria on Wednesday morning for 3 days. The Union erupted into applause and cheers, making it hard to reflect on just why the route had changed. Our new trip to Alexandria is thrilling. And as an archaeologist, I am very excited to be able to see the pyramids and visit the Archaeology Museum. But we are going because 17 people, including at least five children, were killed. That warrants some reflection.

I can only imagine how complicated it is to change the itinerary less than 24 hours before dock time. From finding a berth to the Field Office staff scrambling to put together new trips, to figuring out refund policies for the Istanbul trips…there are endless details to consider. Yet, it was somehow all accomplished. In just a short period of time, we have a berth and the Field Office was able to coordinate seven trip opportunities, including city tours of Alexandria, trips to Cairo, camel rides at the Pyramids, visits to the Archaeology Museum, and boat rides on the Nile. My thanks to all of them.

And, as Istanbul struggles to recover, life on the MV Explorer goes on. Everyone should take a moment to reflect on how lucky we all are.

CAROLYN McCALL - LIFELONG LEARNER

The first we heard of any change in plans was a few minutes before my 8:00 class. Dean Jill Wright came on the ship’s intercom saying that there had been a bombing in Turkey the night before. She was very calm and straightforward and said they were in contact with the University of Virginia administration. She also said they would be contacting the U.S. State Department and their insurance consultants and would be giving us more information as it became available.

My first thought was, “Oh dear, this may be for real this time” because there had been a shooting outside the American Embassy earlier this month (when we were in Denmark). At that time, I was very concerned because of an incident 25 or 30 years ago, when we had been scheduled for a tour that included Turkey. A passenger ferry had been sunk in the Black Sea shortly before our tour was to take place. As a result, the tour was cancelled, and we missed going to Turkey.

As I listened to Dean Wright, I was glad that she was the one in charge because I had heard that she was the Executive Dean during the 9/11/2001 fall semester voyage. And she sounded very capable.

But I felt disappointed and dismayed, because the chances were very good that we would not be going to Turkey this time, either. After hearing and seeing Professor Larry Silver’s pictures and descriptions of the things we were going to see, I was especially disappointed. But knowing I couldn’t do anything about it, I continued my class schedule for the day.

Throughout the day, I heard from students who had watched the news on CNN or whose parents had emailed information about the bombing. The students I talked with were very disappointed for many reasons. During the day and into the afternoon, the ship kept going northeastward and at one point actually seemed to speed up, so we thought there was a chance that we might still be going to Turkey.

Finally, about 6:30 p.m. ship time, Dean Wright announced on the intercom that she and others had been in contact with University of Virginia, the State Department, and their insurance consultants. The trip to Turkey was cancelled. I was disappointed, but not surprised. I was also quite relieved to know that I wouldn’t have to live in fear during my time in Turkey.

The announcement that we would be going to Alexandria, Egypt, came during the 8:00 p.m. meeting in the Union, which was overflowing with students, staff, life long learners, and parents. There was a tremendous cheer and roar that kept going for several minutes.

This morning about 10:00, we received a list of available tours with instructions to fill these out by noon. Because of the limited number of spaces for each tour, we won’t know until after the lottery this afternoon if we got the tours we signed up for.

Anyway, it sounds fun, and we will have a good time no matter happens. Who knows: maybe we’ll make to Turkey some day.

Hello, all

Here’s a message from Semester at Sea today:

Following extensive consultation today with officials at the U.S. Embassy in Istanbul, the Overseas Advisory Council, ASI Group (our global risk management service), V-Ships (our ship’s management service), and the onboard senior leadership team (Captain Jeremy Kingston and Executive Dean Jill Wright), and consistent with the Semester at Sea commitment to the health and safety of our participants, the Institute for Shipboard Education senior management team in Charlottesville, Virginia has decided that the Summer 2008 voyage will not call on Istanbul, Turkey.

The MV Explorer will now call on Alexandria, Egypt (pending confirmation of a berth). Anticipated arrival to Alexandria is Wednesday, July 30 at 08:00. A field program is being developed and will be made available tomorrow for participants to consider. Please continue to check this site for further information as it becomes available.

Here’s the link for updated info.

Hello, blog readers!

FROM MARY YOEST - STUDENT, THE OHIO STATE UNIVERSITY

The MV Explorer is now less than one day out of Naples, Italy. In the past few days, I’ve received an update from Mary Yoest, a wonderful student from The Ohio State University. Below are her comments about her recent trip to Belgium and her classes aboard the ship.

We spent a day in the city of Ghent, which was the largest town in western Europe during the 11th & 14th centuries. It’s now the 3rd largest city in Belgium. The ethnic diversity of the people resembles that of an American city. The difference between here and my country was in the surroundings. All around us were Gothic-style buildings built in the 10th century, French-influenced architecture, and canals that make the city a mini-Venice. We were lucky enough to walk around an area of the canal that was preparing for a large musical festival the next week. It was at this festival where the highlight of my day was seeing Costa Rica’s flag flying on one of the stages. I never imagined seeing it anywhere in Europe.

Semester at Sea did a fantastic job selecting the faculty aboard the ship. All of my professors are not only well qualified but really experienced (Peace Corps, living abroad, emigration experiences, etc.). I think that’s very relevant to this whole trip. Classes are nice because we are fortunate enough to have frequent “long weekends” in different countries. And thanks to temporary Internet problems aboard the ship, we even had the luck to get an extension on our Global Studies midterm (Global Studies is a course the entire ship board community is required to take). After today, there are only 8 classes left, so most students have been quite busy wrapping things up on the ship. Lots of papers and projects!

As promised, here are short updates from continuing SAS voyagers. The ship departed Antwerp, Belgium, this morning.

FROM KELLY JOHNSTON, GIS SPECIALIST AT THE SCHOLARS’ LAB – U.Va.:

It’s a quiz. Which canal is longer than the Panama Canal, has more ship traffic than the Suez Canal, and shares two letters of its four-letter name with the Erie Canal?

The Kiel Canal in Germany.

Today we saved more than 200 nautical miles and many tons of fuel on our way from Denmark to Belgium by traversing the Kiel through northern Germany.

And the views were a bonus. Lush rolling hills dotted with small farms, orchards, and fields of grain, bicyclists with packs on long journeys, and families camping, fishing, and constant waving - a delightful day.
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After 9 hours of canal boating, we exited through a lock into the River Elbe. We waved to the crowds gathered to watch the busy ship traffic. They smiled and waved. We smiled and waved back.

Yours in enjoying tired arms from canal waving, Kelly

FROM RACHEL MOST, Assistant dean of the College of Arts & Sciences at U.Va.:

Belgium: Land of chocolate, beer, diamonds, fashion and the Smurfs

Monday morning we docked in Antwerp after a trip through the historic Kiel Canal and some rough seas. During our cultural pre-port, we learned a few things about Belgium: it’s famous for chocolate, beer, diamonds, fashion and the Smurfs. It may also be the most politically unstable country we are visiting. We learned that the prime minister resigned yesterday, stating he was unable to save the country.

According to folklore, Antwerp got its name because Brabo, a mythical Roman solider, killed a giant named Antigoon and cut off his hand. Antigoon used to asked people for money when they passed the river; when they couldn’t pay, he cut off their hand. Brabo got revenge: Antwerp translates to something like “thrown hand.”

My 1st day was spent taking a walking tour of the city and the (painter) Paul Rubens’ house. My 2nd day was spent taking a tour called “Antwerp: City of Fashion.” One might ask why an archaeology faculty member chose that trip; there is a reason. My mother was a dress designer in New York, and my father owned beauty salons. As an archaeologist, I always had a different sense of style (jeans, work boots, tank tops in the summer, flannel shirts in the winter). But I did grow up in a fashion-conscious environment so I thought I should see what Antwerp had to offer.

I also wanted to learn more about the “Antwerp Six” – a group of influential, avant-garde fashion designers who were all locally trained. The tour had a wonderful guide who showed us all the local shops and took us to the Fashion Museum. The exhibit was one of the most intriguing and different exhibits I have ever seen. The designer featured, Veronique Moi, was inspired by the likes of the TV show “Twin Peaks”and the movies “The French Lieutenant’s Woman” and “Carrie.” Words can’t begin to describe the exhibit: “creative” and “innovative” don’t really do it justice.

Today, Wednesday, was my day to be in the city and explore. Antwerp is a city of angled, cobblestone streets that eventually lead to the Cathedral and then to the main shopping area, Meir Street. I love watching how people interact in their everyday lives (while the anthropologist in me knows that 7-8 hours in a place is not enough to make statements it, the everyday person in me can’t help but do so!)

So, based on my extensive research, I’ve decided that we Americans lack “funk.” We may be stylish and coordinated, but we don’t have funk. I think, like class, this is either something that you have or don’t. I’m not sure it can be learned. But as I walked and shopped up the main street and the side streets, I saw outfits that I have never seen before. The individual pieces were all familiar, but they were put together in different ways.

I also found that stores were organized in unusual ways. Clothes were not organized by size; most seemed to be sorted by color or category (pants, shorts, jackets, etc.). As I tried on different items, the saleswomen were willing to help. But rather than telling me that something looked good, they always asked, Does it fit? I assumed this meant that if I picked it out, I must like it, and all that mattered after that was whether or not it fit me.

I tried to break out of my shell a bit and buy some different things. I don’t think I achieved anything remotely close to funk.

Finally, as I said, Belgium is famous for beer, diamonds, chocolate and the Smurfs. Beer is everywhere. The custom is to serve the kind of beer you order in a glass with the same name. If there’s a mismatch, you are entitled to complain. Chocolate shops are also everywhere as well, and it’s excellent! As for diamonds; they’re beautiful but not in my price range. And as for the Smurfs; no comment.

Well, that’s it. I closed the door to Cabin 4165 for the last time. I left the ship around 11 a.m. today. I am now officially a veteran of Semester at Sea.

Some purists, however, might take issue with that. Since I will miss 5 of the ports, not to mention the second Atlantic crossing in August, one could argue that I’m not a full-fledged veteran. When I announced that I was checking out at the purser’s desk, the assistant purser said, “Oh, you’re only a partial voyager?”

Okay, I might be just a partial voyager. But let me tell you this: during the first Atlantic crossing – from Nova Scotia to Norway – I suffered from seasickness and the meclizine hangover right along side the full voyagers. I, too, know the shortcuts from Deck 7 down to Deck 4.

I know what it is to sit through a Global Studies lecture in the Union when the seas are heaving…and so are some students. I’ve dined on iceberg lettuce and countless oranges on Decks 5 and 6. I’ve donned my life-jacket and dutifully reported to muster station C-5 for the lifeboat drills. I’ve sat through cultural and logistical pre-ports as well as diplomatic briefings. I’ve grown accustomed to having someone else make my bed. I’ve learned new meanings of the terms “flexibility” and “personal space.” I’ve bonded with my ID card and have come to accept how several crew members call me “Liz” (my first name, Elizabeth, appears on my ID card).

I witnessed the arrival of the faculty in New York and the students in Halifax. I found the house where my family lived when I was born. I saw the Norwegian fjords, walked the mean streets of St. Petersburg and basked in the glow of Denmark.

I’ve made friends with students from California to Maine. I’ll miss seeing them all: Kyle Conley, Jeremy Frank, Lindsay Fedler, Tanya in the library, Brendan Marks, Kailey Bender, Katie Manning, Brent, Jake, Haley Parker, Stephanie, Kyle Mihalcoe, Natalie, Sean Mobley, Mary Yoest and her brother Dan, and many others. I’ll miss the faculty, lifelong learners and SAS staff. I’ll miss hearing Capt. Kingston announce that we will soon hear the ship’s alarms…for training purposes only. Seven short and one long.

I came aboard the ship an educated person who was ignorant of so much of the world. Thanks to the faculty, lifelong learners, students and the ports themselves, I’m leaving a bit more enlightened. The first day I boarded the MV Explorer – June 6 – I heard Les McCabe, president of SAS, talk about how the program transforms lives. I distinctly remember thinking, “That’ll be a nice thing for the students.” Little did I envision how much I, too, would be expanded and stretched.

To say that I’m grateful for this experience is putting it mildly. It’ll take a while to absorb it. Throughout the past 5 weeks, I’ve greatly appreciated the emails from loved ones & colleagues as well as readers whom I’ve never met. For me, writing this blog has been an integral part of the voyage experience. I’ve been conditioned in much the same way that Pavlov’s dogs were to the sound of the bell: in the future, when I smell seawater, I’ll automatically dash to the nearest laptop to begin typing.

But the blog is not just about my experience. I hope I’ve conveyed something of what it’s like for a lot of us to sail with this remarkable program. Once I’m back on familiar soil, my goal is to keep the blog going. Before leaving the ship, I spoke with students, faculty and lifelong learners who have graciously offered to send their mini-entries, which I’ll post on this site.

So, if you will, please keep reading. Like you, I’m curious to hear more from my friends, the full voyagers

At first glance, docking in Korsor left some of us wondering. Don’t get me wrong: the way that the town welcomed us our first morning had a sweetness that we all appreciated. But that aside, Copenhagen is where you go to find out about Denmark. Right?

That all depends. As co-voyager Julia Kudravetz, who lived for a while in Copenhagen, pointed out, anchoring ourselves in Korsor rather than an hour away in Denmark’s largest city has its advantages. Sure, Korsor lacks the sophistication of the big city. But here you can see a slice of Denmark up close. If you prefer quiet adventure over glitz, Korsor is the place to be.

The town is very manageable and can easily be explored in a couple of days. You can rent a bicycle for 85 kroners, or $17 per day. And the American dollar goes a little further here than it does in the big city. You can also get a wonderfully rich cappuccino for 20 kroners ($4) and an ice cream cone for the same amount.

Korsor curls itself along the coast and has beaches, a lovely golf course and a bike trail through a nice forest. It’s about a 5-minute walk from our ship across the little drawbridge into the town’s center. As in most coastal towns, restaurants and cafes dot the area along the harbor. The Dansk Bank ATM is around the corner. One of the nicest things is, you can tell the town exists for reasons beyond tourism. Along the streets are businesses – a household appliance store, florist, bicycle repair shop – that cater more to Korsor’s inhabitants more than visitors.

On my last day with the SAS voyage, I wandered into town on my own. The ship felt deserted, as so many co-voyagers had left for overnight stays in Copenhagen and Sweden. I ran into U.Va. professor David Gies, who was just returning from lunch at a place called Madam Bagger. An odd name. But David gave it a two-thumbs-up recommendation. I decided to check it out for myself. Along the way I ran into a lifelong learner named Leah (don’t know her last name) who also had lunched there. She offered to lead me there, introduce me to the chef and show me the menu.

Madam Bagger is housed in a bright mustard yellow building fronted by a small courtyard. A nice little dog was sitting outside. In we went. As if on cue, the chef appeared – a big, burly man in his white uniform. Leah left, and I chatted with him. He had grown up in Korsor but left to get his culinary training in Copenhagen. He stayed for 10 years and then decided to return to Korsor. Here, he said, he could buy a large home for the same amount of money he had paid to rent a small, one-bedroom apartment in the city. Like so many of the Danes I talked to, he had blond hair, blue eyes and a bright, open face.

The menu looked good, so I decided to return for dinner. Two hours later, I re-entered the restaurant with Lavahn Hoh and his wife, Mary Frances. Dinner went off without a hitch. Well, except for one small snafu.

After we had been seated, Mary Frances excused herself to find the women’s restroom. She encountered another patron – an older, nicely dressed woman – who directed her toward a door. When Mary Frances came back to the table, she explained that the restaurant had a unisex bathroom with urinals in the front room and a toilet in an adjoining “water closet.”

Later, when I excused myself to find the restroom, Mary Frances said, “Look for the door on the left.” In the main hallway, I noticed 2 doors: the one on the right had a picture of a little girl frolicking in a field. With MF’s advice in mind, I reasoned: Okay, that must be some sort of special bathroom for children. And with that, I opened the door on the left.

So far, so good. There were the urinals. And there was the water closet, which I entered. Then, just as things were getting underway, I heard the main door open and a man’s cough followed by the sound of a zipper.

Uh-oh.

What’s the protocol with a unisex bathroom?! Do I wait until he finishes and leaves before I open the closet door, wash up and leave? I wasn’t sure, but that seemed like the wisest course. A minute passed. Then I heard the main door open again. I figured the coast was clear and congratulated myself on handling the situation like a pro.

I opened my door. Alas, there he stood, facing the urinal. The sound I had heard was that of yet another man, accompanied by a little boy, entering the bathroom…which by now had become quite crowded! We all looked at one another. It’s hard to say who was more shocked. The father spoke first. “Here.” He opened the main door and pointed to a picture of a small boy frolicking in a field. Now it all made sense. There was no unisex bathroom. I was in the men’s room.

I apologized quickly, tucked my head and dashed out. As the door slammed shut, I could hear the men laughing. After reliving the drama with Lavahn and MF, I consoled myself with a dish of delicious Danish ice cream.

Korsor may not have the exuberance or splendor of Copenhagen. But for me, the memory of this little burg will last a good while.

Denmark has no sharp edges.

Granted, judging an entire nation after only 3 days can be a tricky business. But I won’t let that stop me. I like Denmark – quite a bit. So do other voyagers with whom I’ve talked. And so far, Denmark seems to like us.

The love fest began on a drizzly Tuesday morning, when we backed into place at the Korsor dock. After the majestic mountainous backdrop of Bergen, Norway, and the daunting industrial landscape of St. Petersburg, Russia, the gentle warmth of this town of about 20,000 people took us by surprise. As we crowded by the railings on the ship’s decks, a rock ‘n’ roll band, positioned on the wharf under a tent, banged out Beatles tunes and theme songs to American television shows (for example, “Friends”). Locals clustered about – I’d guess 200 or so – to welcome us. We waved at them, and they waved back. Local officials then rolled a red carpet up to the gangway and placed several large pots of cheerful red geraniums alongside.

Why all the fuss? Because Korsor isn’t Copenhagen, where large ships arrive daily. Here, a ship the size of the MV Explorer comes into port infrequently – once or twice a year. For Korsor, this is a big deal. Through the grapevine, I heard that docking in Korsor rather than Copenhagen costs much less.

As soon as the ship was cleared by customs, voyagers poured out to catch trains to Copenhagen. As with Norway, the weather in Denmark can turn on a dime. The drizzle ended, but 10 minutes later — just as we had hit the sidewalk for the 30-minute walk to the train station – the skies opened up. My group ducked into a convenience store, and I saw another group huddled under trees till the rain passed.

At the train station, we lined up to buy tickets with SAS students, many with backpacks and duffle bags packed to the gills for one- or two-night stays in Copenhagen or beyond to Sweden. The automated ticket machine preferred debit over credit cards, which briefly thwarted some voyagers’ efforts to pay their fare. A one-way ticket to Copenhagen costs roughly $22 dollars. It’s a cost that many of us hadn’t foreseen, but there wasn’t much grumbling.

We arrived at the main station in Copenhagen in little more than an hour. Across the street are the famed Tivoli Gardens and the dense section of the city where tourists go. I can speak only for my little group: the day was a moveable feast, with stops for lunch, dinner, coffee and ice cream. We also visited the Round Tower, with a 210-meter stairway that winds up the street to a dazzling open-air view of the city.

After lunch, we headed to the Kings Garden, where a jazz band played to several hundred people swaying to the beat and soaking up the sunshine. The garden dates from the early 1600s, during the reign of King Christian IV. At the nearby Rosenborg Slot (Castle), we gazed at the glass cases holding Denmark’s crown jewels. For a commoner like me, unused to seeing rubies, diamonds and sapphires the size of key limes, the jewels looked fake. What would it feel like to have one of the diamond-encrusted necklaces slung around my neck? One pair of earrings, with fiery yellow diamonds, caught my eye. They had curved wire hangers to place over the tops of the ears. That made sense. No ear lobes could possibly support their weight.

Throughout the day, we glided along. Very few hitches. Here, life feels easy and happy. Because tourism accounts for a significant chunk of Copenhagen’s economy and Danes begin learning English in the 3^rd grade, communication rarely posed a problem for us. Also, I’ll say that I’ve never seen so many blonde, blue-eyed people.

Denmark redefines what it means to be “bicycle friendly.” The bike lanes are wider than in most U.S. cities. You see cyclists everywhere. Young and old, in suits and dresses as well as casual wear. During rush hour, they queue up at the traffic lights and stream forward with the cars. We made the mistake of drifting off the pedestrian sidewalk into the bike lane. Behind me I heard the r-r-r-ring of a bell; a cyclist was politely saying, “Get out of my way, please.”

Lasting impressions of Copenhagen: big without being intimidating to a first-time tourist. It’s a feast for the eyes, with gabled roofs, medieval stone churches and ultra-modern buildings happily cohabiting. The city blends old-world enchantment and contemporary hipness. Denmark exudes congeniality.  

PHOTOS:

1. Ping pong…sans paddles!

2. Unidentified student flies a kite off Deck 5

It’s a beautiful summer evening here on the MV Explorer. In the past 36 hours, students burrowed down to write papers for their various classes. In Global Studies this morning, I saw Aaron Mayer, one of 3 teaching assistants working with Professor Allen Lynch, carrying a stack of papers that stood at least one foot high. As a former English teacher, I feel for Aaron and the others who have to grade all those essays. In the hallways and stairwells, you can feel the students’ relief, excitement, silliness and joy.

Actually, the mood aboard ship began lightening last night, when we saw Barry Lubin perform in the Union on Deck 6. Barry is a clown, quite literally, though he said the more formal term for his profession is “physical comedian.” He leaves us in Copenhagen for performances in Germany and Austria. Raised in Atlantic City, N.J., he used to watch circus divers perform their dives off the town’s famed Steel Pier.

In his act aboard the ship, Barry appeared as “Grandma,” an older woman wearing a bright red housedress, purse and a curly wig. S/He toddled on the stage as Professor Lavahn Hoh was giving a lecture on the origins of the circus. Enough with the serious stuff!

It’s difficult to do justice to sight gags, but suffice to say, Barry had us in the palm of his hand. Midway through the performance, he went into the audience, coaxing voyagers on stage to perform with him. In most cases, the voyagers went reluctantly. But when 600+ people are cheering you on, you just have to go with the flow.

Willie Wright, a lifelong learner from Fayetteville, N.C., entertained us with his efforts to squirt water from his mouth. Another gag involved a hula hoop. Everyone – including Barry himself – was surprised by the performance of one student (sorry, I don’t know her name). She leapt up from her seat, blithely stepped inside the hoop and proceeded to dazzle us with her moves.

One of the evening’s biggest laughs came when Barry cajoled U.Va. commerce professor Bill Wilkerson on stage. With the song “Unforgettable” playing, Barry grasped one of Bill’s hands, rested his head on Bill’s shoulder and began foxtrotting around the stage. Bill, who can fool you with his quiet, lowkey manner, waited until they were turned away from the audience and slyly slid his hand down Grandma’s back to rest lightly on her derriere. The crowd roared. I overheard someone nearby say, “Simple fun works.” It certainly did last night.

This evening, we dined on Danish food prepared by the galley crew: meat balls in gravy, salmon in a horseradish sauce, herring salad with boiled eggs and cherry cake for dessert. The meal has added to the festive feeling floating through the ship.

We’re closing in on our next port: Korzor, Denmark. Korzor is located about 60-90 minutes from Copenhagen, Denmark’s capital and largest city. At this point, we know the drill. A mandatory pre-port meeting tonight, followed by a presentation in the morning by an American diplomat serving in Denmark while the ship is cleared by customs. Then we bolt for the train station in to go into Copenhagen. It’s my last time getting up early to arrive in a new port. Thinking about it makes me sad. But knowing that by noon tomorrow, I’ll be standing in Copenhagen lifts my mood.

After dinner, Kelly Johnston and Don Gogniat entertained 100 or so voyagers by flying kites on the back of Deck 4. Nearby, students played ping pong – one foursome made do without paddles!

Compared with Russia, Denmark looks to be an easy time. Not only do many Danes speak English, but the country is reputed to top the list of the world’s happiest nations. It’s also a wealthy country with a strong agricultural base to its economy. Of the 5.6 million people who live there, 1.7 million live in Copenhagen. Denmark is the most densely populated nation in Europe. Like Norway, it’s quite liberal, too. Education is free for everyone, and Denmark has a 100% literacy rate for adults. It was the first European nation to legalize same-sex marriages and accords the same adoption rights to same-sex couples as it does to heterosexual couples. Denmark also provides a generous maternity and paternity leave and support program.

According to Dean Karen Ryan, during Denmark’s economic expansion of the 1960s, it relaxed its immigration policies. As a result, sizable Pakistani and Turkish populations now live in the country. With the formation of the Danish Peoples Party in 1995, however, portions of the Danish population have become more hostile to outsiders. Whereas more liberal Danes are in favor of allowing their nation to become more heterogeneous, the adherents of the DPP want to place more severe restrictions on immigration. To our American ears, that debate has a familiar ring to it.

Below I’ve included mini-blog entries from some of shipmates about their St. Petersburg experiences and impressions.

 PHOTO > Haley Parker, U.Va. student

 HALEY PARKER, RISING 4^TH-YEAR AT UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA

The night felt young at all hours, thanks to the sun just scooping below the horizon and never taking all its light with it. This gave me enough inspiration to get out into the streets, over the bridges, into the culture and live by a different tempo. 

If I were to use the well known phrase for my experience in Saint Petersburg, it would be “the city that never sleeps” or at least the city that I never got a chance to sleep in. That was not because I was awake with the sweats from nightmares about crime and violence (the metro fears of pickpockets, etc.), but because I was out on the town having the experience of a lifetime. There was too much to see (Saint Isaac’s, Saint Nicolas’s, Kazan Cathedrals, Peter the Great’s Palace. And the museums: the Hermitage, the Bread Museum, the Erotica Museum…gosh, that’s not even all of them). 

The most fabulous part was that I had a desire to dive in and explore the city and learn about this place. I was anxious to see that things that I was told about in Global Studies and to find out if I could tell a difference in lives of these Russians. For sure, 5 days gave me a great idea of the status quo. I feel confident in being able to reflect on this trip over the rest of this semester, finding patterns and making connections. My anticipation level just keeps escalating with Denmark on the way!

NAN GRAY – LIFELONG LEARNER FROM KNOXVILLE, TENN.

For much of my life, Russia (conceptually synonymous with the Soviet Union) was presented as the one great country powerful enough and so different from us and our ways that it was a threat to our very existence. It was antithetical to such an extent that it must be thwarted in its efforts, vigilantly defended against, feared and hated. “The Soviet Threat” was constantly invoked whenever any news of the world was presented, it seemed, often along with nuclear annihilation, and mutual assured destruction. How would it be to see this country today, over 20 years after its empire has mostly been dissolved, capitalism is established, and many personal freedoms have been granted, including domestic and international travel? Would anything obvious remain of Russia’s Soviet past?

I have to say, the cities I visited looked rather familiar, not so foreign and exotic as I had expected. Flashing billboards advertised clothing, and urbanites walked purposefully through the streets of Moscow and Saint Petersburg much as they do in New York or Paris. Families  from more rural sections of the country make holiday trips to their capitals in the US and in Russia to photograph the children with mother lined up in front of the monuments dedicated to former leaders (George Washington and Vladimir Lenin). Cars and traffic jams, as well as shortages of parking places plague St. Petersburg and Moscow, much as in any large city. Neither American nor Russian citizenship implies one single ethnicity or native language, religion or race. And who hasn’t met a clerk or cashier in France, Germany or the US who has made it clear that helping you is an imposition?

The biggest difference I can still see between Americans and Russians is the pride in and value given to a well-educated, cultured mind. I’ve been told on this voyage that the average Russian is quite familiar with Russian literary classics and can probably even recite some of the texts. The crowd in attendance at a ballet performance I saw ranged in age from child to older adult, and seemed to resemble a fair cross-section of society. I have never seen this in ballet performances in the US.  Married couples here make the customary rounds to monuments and historical sites in their wedding clothes to be photographed. In St. Petersburg, so many restoration projects are underway. One sees netting and scaffolding on every street.

Americans, on the other hand, feel ambivalent toward well-educated people to the extent that a literature-quoting, ballet-going, historical-preservation-loving person would more likely be the beginning of an insult-in-the-making than a description of the average citizen.

JEREMY FRANK – RISING SENIOR AT CORNELL COLLEGE, IOWA

I’m not at all certain what to think about our time in Russia. It’s the first nation I’ve been to that feels genuinely foreign. From the language, to the subtle expressions on Russian faces, to the resplendent palaces and cathedrals, there was nothing in Russia that did not require some kind of interpretation. Nothing was natural to me there.

One thing in particular that I had trouble grasping was the jealous, near-fanatical way in which the Russians have guarded their past. The churches with their intricate mosaics, the winter palace with its unmatched art collection, much of what we saw in St. Petersberg is beyond any estimable value. In our global studies class, we have been trying to come to grips with the geopolitical history of Russia, its many failures and few meager successes.

Yet, after spending time in St. Petersburg, I think that the one thing I still cannot begin to understand is the Russian people’s overpowering compulsion to preserve the relics of what was a lonely and often incredibly brutal history.

It seems to me that there is no other nation whose residents want to be more keenly aware of the painful legacy of their past. In some respects, Russia has “failed” as a national entity. But Russia stands head and shoulders above all other nations in their desire to preserve and remember their history. I think that is what I saw the most when I looked into the faces of the Russian people I saw. They carry the burden of the past within themselves in a singular way. Many nations whose histories have been far brighter would not have the stoic courage or self-awareness to do so.

PHYLLIS ROBERTS, LIFELONG LEARNER, CHESTERTOWN, MD

Being a Life Long Learner on the Explorer has been one of the best things Pere and I have done in our lifetime. Without any preliminary expectations, we have taken advantage of everything that has been offered on the ship (for instance, lectures, community college and most of all the classes).

We have gotten up each morning at 8 a.m. for the European Art class and have taken copious notes, watching and learning about painters whom we’ve heard about in our lives, but did not have any relevance in our lives. Following European Art, we stayed right in our seats and absorbed Global Studies.

It wasn’t until we arrived in St. Petersburg that everything came together. We marveled how the art and the world history all tied together. When we observed the art and architecture, it was hard to imagine that all this happened so many centuries ago. Seeing was believing.

CLAIRE MITCHELL – RISING 4^TH-YEAR AT THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA

After leaving Russia, I am simultaneously more and less sure that my preconceptions were correct. The view outside of our ship showed a city of polar opposites. Gilded domes stood over top the Neva River, which was polluted and full of industrial freights as well as cruise ships. Only a few blocks’ walk away, I saw some of the saddest-looking people I’ve ever seen. Men without legs sat against bustling shopping centers while little old ladies bent over double picked through garbage bins in search of empty cans. Even though Russia is undoubtedly experiencing a great economic boom, it still has many social problems that seem overwhelmingly difficult to fix.

The people themselves were a further confusion to me. Most faces met us with what some of us on the ship dubbed the “dead-eye” stare. They seemed as if there was nothing to be happy about, and several even told us that they thought people who smile a lot were stupid. Among the youth, however, I found different reactions. Many of them blared techno remixes of American pop classics while wearing outfits that left little to the imagination. One young Russian guy, who seemed relatively open-minded, admitted to wanting to “stomp on gays and minorities” whenever he saw them. Although many Russian youth appear to embrace Western culture, I think that there are still a lot of long-standing problems facing Russia before it can achieve a truly free, equal society.

SEAN MOBLEY – PURDUE UNIVERSITY

KYLE MIHALCOE - RISING 4TH-YEAR AT THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA

I’m happy that we were so well prepared for Russia because it allowed us all to have better and less stressful port experience.

CAROLYN MCCALL – LIFELONG LEARNER – AMES, IOWA

Coming in to St. Petersburg and not knowing what to expect, I was immediately surprised at the vast number of cranes along the sides of the Neva River. The shores were lined with ships being loaded and unloaded using these mammoth cranes.  Piled beside the docks were numerous huge piles of scrap iron in sizes from large pieces to what looked like piles of ground metal.

As the ship was coming in to the dock, the beautiful colors of the buildings on the dock were lovely and inviting.  Throughout St. Petersburg, many buildings were painted shades of pink, coral, yellow and green with white trim. Not only were the buildings colorful, but most of the parks and historical monuments had exquisite flower gardens adding to the color. So very different from 25 years ago.

Going through customs was another story. The Russian officials came on board while we went to the Union to hear an ambassador tell us about Russia.  He again repeated all the warnings we’d been told numerous times in Pre-port about street crime in Russia.  After about an hour, he noticed a restless group and let us leave to wait to be called by groups to pick up our passports, which we had to have with us at all times in Russia.  We were told to be in line by 11:30 so we could go through customs on the dock and be at our tour bus by 12:30. At about 12:45, a uniformed guard came and pointed to about five of us and motioned for us to follow her to the front of the line. We decided she thought we were old, and she took pity on us.

We finally got on the bus at 1:00 p.m. for a river tour of St. Petersburg. The bus was hot, the audio system did not work and it was hard to hear/understand our Russian guide. We would have like to have heard about the buildings, monuments, etc., that we were passing, but didn’t.  We were dropped off at a souvenir shop for a half hour.  Many of us had not had time to get rubles, so we waited. Several times I wondered why we were staying in St. Petersburg for five days.

After seeing the wonderful Folkloric Show and visiting a Russian home for tea, we decided that five days was not nearly enough time to see the beauty of St. Petersburg.  We were able to walk from the ship to many of the monuments that we wanted to visit. Again, I was totally impressed with the quantity and quality of the art works in the Hermitage. The ceilings and chandeliers were magnificent. The beautiful designs on the parquet floors were works of art. The surprising thing was that we were allowed to walk on these beautiful floors. After three hours, my brain could not take in more beauty.

We were surprised by the number of brides and wedding parties we saw every day while we were there. People were laughing, joking, and having a good time. Again so St. Petersburg has changed a great deal in 25 years. It’s a place I would like to visit again.