So apparently, learning about new cultures doesn't even have to include setting foot on foreign soil. I've met someone, who for purposes of confidentiality I can't mention by name, who's American...but SO far off from anything I've EVER seen before that part of me wonders of this guy is even for real. Ladies, did you ever watch Gilmore Girls? Apparently that crap with the grandparents ACTUALLY HAPPENS. Let's go through the laundry list of things I've learned about this guy. Hmm.
1. A multimillionaire...possibly a billionaire.
2. Mother is an Italian supermodel, grandmother is a 50's movie star, and great-grandmother was the heir to the Grapenuts/Honey Bunches of Oats throne.
3. ONLY listens to Classical and Jazz music. He didn't know what "metal" was.
4. Doesn't know what "grinding" is. (He assumed "club" meant "country club", not nightclub.)
5. Was shocked and almost appalled that I didn't know how to ballroom dance.
6. Has a house in Greenwich, the Hamptons and Palm Beach.
7. Claims that there is a "ghetto" Hampton.
8. Has never listened to lady Gaga.
9. Direct Quote regarding Lady Gaga: "Well, I'd say she's HARDLY a lady."
10. Has a family ring and a family crest.
11. Has all his clothes custom tailored.
12. Doesn't follow politics, and I don't think he knew about the debt ceiling debates...surprise, surprise.
13. Grandfather founded Vail, CO.
14. Swims with Alec Baldwim.
15. Has a personal hatred by Donald Trump, who incidentally insulted this kids grandmother in his book.
16. Hasn't owned a pair of blue jeans since he was 5.
17. Does that one thing where you wear a sweater around your shoulders instead of actually wearing the sweater.
18. Gets disgusted, furious, and nauseous when his sisters put on "popular" music.
19. Oddly enough, wasn't that far off when he guessed the annual income of a family in the USA.
20. Seems to think that art preservation is a form of charity.
21. Eats out every single night when out in his college in NYC.
22. Clearly has a crush on me.
Sorry, but when I joke that I want to marry a rich Jewish doctor...this isn't what I mean. Friends, family, other people reading this...please. PLEASE. If I ever show even the slightest sign of becoming anything remotely resembling this man or his family...smack me so hard that I fly into the Victorian era these people are still stuck in.
I can't help but think I'm being hypocritical for judging this poor boy too hard. It's not his fault his was raised in extreme privilege. But what is his fault is that he doesn't care to understand what's going on in the world outside of what I would call his "Hampton bubble". It's almost disgusting. I got physically sick listening to him tell me about his family, his money, and how "philanthropic" they are. Sorry, honey, but with the money you spent on your pointless 60-bedroom house (not kidding. His grandma's house had 118 rooms), you probably could have kept my local animal shelter going for ten years. So don't give me that bullshit about doing your part in society and being humble and grateful for what you have. If you had an INKLING of what you have, you would hate yourself and you would hate your family for wasting the money America so desperately needs to fill your drawers with 400 dollar watches and weekend vacations to Venice. It's ridiculous. You're ridiculous. You don't even know about the debt ceiling? Does nothing in society impact you besides your biweekly dinner parties of 100 guests (which he has, I might add)? Why do you NEED to do these things? Why do you NEED so much when others have so little? Would it kill you to buy that half million dollar house and maybe give the rest back to, oh, I don't know...the people you're actually employing to clean your big-ass house? Or the teachers who teach your rotten kids? Or maybe to help the kids starving in Somalia? I don't even need to get off this boat to see the types of people my country really has. I really had to see it to believe it.
America, these are the people who we don't tax. THESE are the "job creators" we fight so hard to protect, the ones who still have debutante balls and half million dollar weddings, the ones who value grandeur over practicality. Are these the people you want getting our presidents elected (This guy's grandpa PERSONALLY got Eisenhower elected, apparently.)? The ones still living in monarchial Europe? The ones who don't even know that the average joe doesn't know how to do a box-step? These people have done nothing to DESERVE what they have. They are simply, as this guy called himself, "old blood". This is a democracy, not an aristocracy...or at least I thought it was.
I don't want to go to India and see people begging in the streets. This is enough for me. I want to go home. I'm going to be sick.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Culture Shock: On the Boat, Day Something
Monday, August 29, 2011
On the Boat, Day 4
You remember that one song, the one that goes “rock the boat, don’t rock the boat baby”? Find the songwriter and tell him to suck it up, princess. He’s never been on the MV Explorer. I didn’t know it was possible for a boat this big to rock back and forth this much. It’s insane. No matter where I go, I can’t escape it. You know how many times I’ve nearly fallen off the balcony on the 6th floor to the tile floor on the 5th? I’m not telling, but it’s a lot. Luckily, while I’m still seasick, I’m no longer violently ill because of it. However, in trying to compensate for the constant movement, by neck has taken to trying to stay as still as possible to support my nausea-prone head. Therefore, I have new neck tension that’s so bad and tight that if you smack a wooden board against my neck, the board would snap in two. Yeah. How long until I’m allowed to blow $50 on a massage?
It’s really tough going through the time zone changes, because we’re losing an hour of sleep every night until we get to Morocco. Waking up for my 8am classes is becoming less of an annoyance and more of an epic mission. I’m not sure I can do it. I suppose the name of the game will have to be naps, which in all honesty is completely fine by me.
Classes are going to murder me. I know, that’s really weird coming from me, right? But seriously, for something that’s known for being a bit of a “party cruise”, I feel like I’m in my first semester of law school. I’m not just happy I didn’t sign up for a 5th class, I’m relieved. Even with just the four I have, I’m expected to read between 200 and 400 pages a day, and that’s in addition to my work-study, which luckily is almost relaxing so far in its mindlessness. Oh, and the reading will stay the same even as the papers pile up. Difficult papers? Absolutely not. LOTS of papers? Oh my God yes. Oh, and then there are the tests. Why are there so many tests? The brochure said there would only be a few tests. This is a terrible vacation! (That was for you, Iowans.) I may have met my match. It just worries me, because maybe the classes aren't hard. Maybe Iowa hasn't been challenging me enough, and now I'm not used to hard work. Shoot. Is that what it is? Am I really just incredibly dumb and lazy? Am I incapable of working at the college level after all? God, I hope not...
Nonetheless, I’m still having some semblance of “fun”. I’ve grown unusually popular. No, not just unusually popular, ABSURDLY popular. I can’t help but think it’s some sort of well-orchestrated prank by every member of the shipboard community. It’s as if every person has decided that there’s something about me that’s just DIFFERENT, but that unlike everyone in the past who thought that was a bad thing, these guys think it’s sort of awesome. The terms “quirky, genuine, and unique” have come to me in the form of compliments. When I enter a room, it’s often to tribal chants of “MAREK! MAREK! MAREK!” People want to be me for Halloween. It’s odd as hell to be some sort of divine idol for these people, and I don’t understand why this is happening at all. Nonetheless, I think I could get used to this.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
On the Boat, Day 3
So...yeah. Worst first class ever. I may or may not have run out of class in the middle of the professor's lecture only to throw up two inches away from the toilet. Then I did work and about 300 pages of reading. I think this boat is going to kill me.
And that's the general story of Day 3.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
On the Boat, Day 2
Well, it was orientation day today. Needless to say, it was a waste of my time. I woke up and headed to the student union. The morning was filled with silly lectures on "respect" and "academic" honesty, and all that stuff that if you didn't learn it when you went through the same schtick freshman year, you're not going to learn it now. The morning orientation lasted from 9am to 11:45pm. I had just taken seasickness pills, so was falling asleep in my chair. I would have left the auditorium, but I was unlucky enough to be sitting by the assistant dean of the entire program. Lucky me.
After lunch, I learned from another voyager that I could actually watch the orientation session from the TV in my room, but for some reason nobody on the staff wanted us to know that. First of all, why wouldn't they tell us? And second of all, what was the point of televising it if they actually wanted students to show up? I watched the rest of orientation from 1:30 to 5:00 from the comfort of my own bed--and by "watched", I mean I took a lovely nap.
It looks like yet again I'm going to have to drop anthropology. God seems to have something against me taking that class. However, despite SAS offering the option of taking a 5th class, everybody and their mother "highly recommends" against taking more than 4 courses unless absolutely necessary. I scoffed, as 12sh at my school is reserved for lazy-ass sissy students and seniors who can't be bothered with education anymore. In my book, go 15+ or go home. But gosh...I asked EVERYONE! My classmates, my professors, my even boss (the coordinator for academic success, for God's sake)told me I'd be so overwhelmed that it wasn't even worth taking anthropology, no matter how much I wanted to or how motivated I was. So...yeah. Can't really drop my history classes, as I need to graduate and all...and I'm looking forward to them, but still. Weak. No matter what they tell me, I feel so freaking lazy only taking 4 classes. I did it last semester, but for 16sh, and was bored out of my skull. But I guess I need to believe what the professionals tell me, right?
I went to the involvement fair tonight and officially began "I Have No Shame on a Boat", my SAS branch of No Shame Theatre. I also wrote down that I was interested in the community service club and tutoring for the kids of the staff on the voyage. This was in addition to working the academic success station with my boss to recruit prospective writing tutors and language club people. Looks like I'll be busy as hell no matter how many classes I take.
Today ended with yet ANOTHER meeting, this time about things like "floor etiquette" and "curse words" and "quiet hours". If one more person talks to me like I'm 3, I will shank them. And they'll never find the body, as I'll throw it deep into the ocean blue.
Classes start tomorrow, all FOUR of them. Wish me luck!!!
Friday, August 26, 2011
Montreal, Day 3 and Embarkation
They put me to work bright and early handing out name-tags to new students as they got on the ship. I got pissed really quickly upon seeing the ratio of people who were working to people who were ****ing around in the corner. Apparently work ethic isn't a big thing around here, so I was the one who got stuck doing a lot of the work. I was actually the very last student released from work today because of it. Godddd. It was sad seeing the parents leaving their kids though. Gabriela was working with me and almost started bawling whenever a mom started to cry. My moment occurred when a girl brought her doggie to the port with her. It was a little fuzzball who was scared and confused and shaking, and the girl was having so much trouble leaving her little pup behind. The dog was a wreck seeing her go. My thoughts immediately went to my baby Francesca, and I started sobbing right in the middle of my job.
I also met my roommate for the first time today. Alex is pretty cool. She's from Chicago and went to CU Boulder for a semester, but now studies at Loyola in Chicago. She's been to Morocco and gave me so much advice on what to do there.
We had a mandatory lifeboat drill around 4:00, which basically secured my belief that if we actually hit an iceberg, we're all going to die. The efficiency with which the staff checked to make sure we were all at our lifeboat was comically pathetic. I say that if someone doesn't show up when the alarms are going off, let 'em drown. Don't make the rest of us wait for 15 minutes while you find the two stragglers. Why let the rest of us sink so you can feel good inside?
At 5 we officially set sail!!!
It took about 5 minutes for me to start getting seasick. I'm still wearing my anti-seasick wristband and am high on anti-nausea drugs right now. We're not even on the high seas yet.
We also had a mandatory meeting at 8, which was dumb as hell. It was 90 minutes of listing off names of faculty and staff members and pretending to applaud enthusiastically for every one of them, followed by 30 minutes of our Living Learning Coordinator forcing us to make awkward conversation with each other about a given topic. What pissed me off is that I actually got into a good conversation with someone I'd never met about theatre, and the lady told us "We're not talking about that. We're talking about what you're most looking forward to about this trip." What the hell? Control freak, much? We were learning much more about each other by actually talking.
We have 12 hours of orientation tomorrow, and the schedule looks like hours of more useless meetings. I feel like I'm going to kill the staff on this voyage. They seem so much more annoying now than when I was a freshman in college.
Nonetheless, I'm so excited. Classes officially start on Sunday (yes, Sunday. No weekends for me.) and I get to be in Casablanca, Morocco in 7 days! I'm also friends with a girl who used to play on Singapore's national soccer league, so you should totally be jealous of me right now.
GOODNIGHT!
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Montreal, Day 2/Boarding the MV Explorer
Basics: We woke up, ate breakfast, packed our bags, and checked out.
Details: We checked out 10 minutes past late checkout time because I was the only one carrying the bags and loading them onto the cart. Picture me trying to lift 9 fifty-pound duffels over my head one right after the other, and building a tower that was taller than me. My back hurts so much right now. My roommates overpacked.
Basics: We took a cab to the MV Explorer.
Details: The cab driver didn't speak any English. He also hit another car on the way. We were slightly unnerved.
Basics: We explored the ship.
Details: It's beautiful and 7 stories tall. It supports the staff and their families, the faculty and THEIR families, and 500 needy college students. There are weight machines, free weights, cafes, and a spa. I'm in heaven. A very overpriced heaven.
Basics: I went into my room.
Details: It's very cozy, and by cozy I mean the cute cozy and the cozy that real estate salesmen use when REALLY trying to say "tiny". I'm not disappointed, as it's a ship and can't be expected to have much room. Also, I have a private shower/toilet, so there are no complaints from me. Well, there's one complaint from me, but it's of my own doing. Mom was right: I should have gotten a room with a window. The portholes are SO cute and I want one. But the real issue is that my room is pitch black when I shut off the lights, and I won't wake up without light in the room. My temporary solution is to set my alarm clock across the room so I can't turn it off without getting my butt out of bed in the morning. My roommate is going to HATE me. I think if I had it to do over again, I'd have gotten the "most expensive cheap room" rather than the "least expensive average room" just for the sake of the window. However, I'm happy I didn't get the "most expensive EXPENSIVE room", the junior suite, because I took a look at one and sniggered. SAS is going to charge these suckers 5k extra for a couch and a toe's worth more room. Idiotic decision to have gotten one of those. Almost as idiotic as the ones paying an extra 8k for a single. I mean, come on. 8k? For a room you'll hardly use? Puh-lease. The only thing worth missing is a window, but everything else about my room is awesome. Average room for the win!
Basics: I went to have dinner in the dining hall.
Details: It's ship-dorm food, not cruise-ship food, but I knew that coming in. When you're expecting crap, it's tough to be disappointed. They had potatoes and fish, so I was satisfied. I actually really enjoyed dinner, it's just that I got my typical cafeteria jitters. I HATE cafeterias. The mess kills me inside, as does my proximity to other eaters. My OCD manifests itself really badly regarding food, so I was pretty tense the whole time. I'll get used to it though, I'm sure. I did at U Iowa, eventually. The dining room itself was gorgeous and had a chandelier. The lack of a constant supply of coffee made me sad, but it's also possible I didn't look hard enough. There is very little variety, but this is a good thing for me. I promised myself I'd hard-core diet on the ship and eat like a trucker in port. I feel this is a good way to avoid the "SAS 10", similar to the freshman 15 I gained a couple years ago.
Basics: I had work-study orientation.
Details: I am the Program Assistant to Academic Success. What that actually means is still TBA.
Basics: I volunteered for the Parents Bon Voyage Reception.
Details: I tour guided parents through I ship I'd been on for about 5 hours. Dear God, that was a bad decision. I think I got lost about 3 times, and only managed to fake my way through because of my knowledge of random SAS facts learned through months of research. I like tour guiding in general a lot...but I'm never doing that particular tour again.
Basics: My friends went out to a bar.
Details: I didn't. It was too expensive to merit a return visit.
Basics: I found coffee.
Details: I got ripped off on the ship by buying a latte at their cafe to avoid getting ripped off in Montreal by buying a drink at a bar. God dammit.
Basics: I lost my ID.
Details: The bastards still charged me $1 for a temp card while I found mine again. Lucky, because apparently a NEW ID is $25. It was my first day, for Christ's sake. I really do wonder how much of these charges are actually necessary, and how many go towards buying the staff caviar while we're not looking.
Basics: I got really depressed.
Details: I'm alone and just realized that I can't call or Facebook without ridiculous charges. I'm seriously upset at this right now. It's unfair. The staff get free internet, so why don't I? The alumni I met assured me that I'll have the time of my life, but right now I just want to be on Facebook talking to my friends at school while talking on the phone to my mother.
Basics: Email me.
Details: I miss every one of you. sjmuller@semesteratsea.net.
Basics: I'm still having a good time.
Details: I'm just homesick.
Montreal, Night 1
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Montreal, Day 1
Montreal is stunning. I really wasn't expecting much. Thought it'd be similar to St. Louis, Denver, Chicago...any other bustling American metropolis. Little did I know that Montreal was actually in Canada, and therefore infinitely superior to all American cities. It kind of felt like I was in England again...and then in Germany...and then it Italy...and usually in France, since most of Old Montreal is totally styled in Neoclassical Architecture. I wasn't expecting to see that.
We ladies started off having breakfast in our hotel. They served beans because their eggs ran out. I was displeased. Breakfastless, we headed out to the metro station, where Maria realized she forgot her sunglasses. So we went back to the hotel. We went back to the metro station. Then we got a message that someone was meeting us at our hotel. So we went back to the hotel. She wasn't there. So we went back to the metro station. I had a minor freakout trying to figure out the demon ATM machine, which didn't like my card.
We got on the metro and headed to downtown Montreal. Located another SAS kid, whose adorable grandpa was kind enough to take us to lunch, where we tried "poutine", a disgusting Canadian montrosity composed of french fries, cheese, and gravy. Ugh. Needless to say, I had the salmon.
Next we went on a carriage ride through Montreal. Oh my God, best decision ever. We saw everything! And our tour guide was seemingly in a relationship in his horse. I learned so much history about the architecture of the buildings and the cobblestone streets. So many pictures, so little time.
Of course, that wasn't enough history for me, so I dragged my friends to go see the Archaeology Museum, where we were treated to an 18 minute, ultra-corny presentation on the history of Montreal from the big bang to now. It was weird. Probably was weirder for Gabriela, who forgot to change the language to English on her headphones, and was doomed to try to interpret the music and sound effects. Poor girl. Museum itself was pretty average, but I liked it.
We wanted to go home, but kept getting distracted. I found maple wine. It was like taking a shot of pure maple syrup. Which I've done before. So yeah, it was EXACTLY like that.
We finally got home, and I collapsed and fell asleep. Now the girls are forcing me to go out again. When in Rome, I guess. Oh, wait, I'm in Montreal. Damn.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Oh God
Didn't cry because I was leaving. Cried because I wasn't going to be able to be there for my little brother for his first semester of college.
This is really weird. I still feel like I'm late for classes at the UI, like I need to start preparing audition monologues and reconciling myself to the fact that I probably won't get a part, and that I have to start looking into study abroad because dang it, it's junior year!
My last day was a blast though. Went to go get the most American food of all: Pad Thai. Also watched WWE Raw, ate one quarter of an entire pie, drank the rest of my wine, and had frosting courtesy of Kristin Wirtz. I'll miss my friends so much.
The adventure begins.