The world stops but the thoughts don’t.
We sit at our computers wondering:
What if, what about, who can, how will we, what if we never.
Then the work distracts us.

Minutes feel like hours.
Hours like days.
Days like weeks
Weeks like months.
It could be worse. We are lucky. We are grateful. We are sorry for those who aren’t.

We see an older man in the stairwell. He doesn’t even know what is happening.
How many like him are there?
How can we, what about, what if, who can, what if we never?

The cat flips on his back and we share a brief moment of laughter.
Then we remember: the cat relaxes because he hasn’t been burdened with these questions.
How can we, what about, what if, who can, what if we never?

Will the world return to its normal self in a few weeks or will this change us forever?
How will history books recount this moment?
What kind of legacy will we leave behind?
How can we, what about, what if, who can, what if we never?

COVID-19 has me looking through past writing. Sharing an entry from a little over a year ago that made me smile today. To all the coffee girls out there…we see you, we hear you, and we know you’re going to do great things.

Today I was in the elevator of the world trade center holding 9 coffees. So yeah, that’s five in one tray, four in the other stacked on top of one and other. I have carried more coffees than this before. I am literally a professional coffee carrier. Every time I do this balancing act, there are the girls who give me dirty looks. There are the men who scoff, or sometimes someone holds the door for me out of pity. I always dread this part of my day. It makes me want to tell anyone who sees me that I am more than just the coffee girl.

Today I encountered someone new.

He was older – maybe my dad’s age, and we were standing in the elevator together. “That’s pretty impressive,” he told me. “Yeah, I’m like a professional coffee balance-er, it’s kinda my job.” I guess this sounded sarcastic. He responded “Oh no, I didn’t mean it like – ” I cut him off “Of course not, I was just -” he cut me off.

“Just imagine all the folks who have done this balancing act who have gone on to do great things.”

I was choked up. All I could muster as he stepped out of the elevator was “You have a great day sir.” I wanted to tell him how that was the highlight of my day. How I’ll never forget his kind words in a moment of self-doubt. How I will think of him as I set out to change the world. I did take a moment to imagine all the people who have done that balancing act. Who have walked through the dirty looks and crowded hallways. Who have stood and cried on the corner outside their office when they felt directionless. Who have felt the need to tell anyone that looked at them that they are more than just the coffee girl. And finally, I thought of those who have made it through to the other side.

This was a passing moment for that guy, but for me, it will be a moment frozen in time.

I took this photo before I understood how much it would come to mean to me.

Let me explain.

Last year I visited Yad Vahsem with my brother. The final exhibit at Yad Vashem is the Hall of Names. If you’ve ever been to the Hall of Names or just to Yad Vashem in general, we share an overwhelming experience. After a moment of taking it all in, I turned around and saw my big brother standing off to the side. My brother has always been a role model for me. Someone who kept his composure, who stood tall, who stood up for others and spoke his mind. When I turned around that day, I did not see that strong man. In a moment of vaunerablility, I saw someone I did not recognize. His shoulders drooped and his head hung in his hand. My big brother who I had only seen cry once before in my life, was completely broken. He stood and he sobbed. I crept up next to him and put my arm around his shoulder. As I felt his rib cage cave in and out, I knew we had both just experienced something that would change our worldview forever. We had always heard about the Holocaust as if it were something that happened hundreds of years ago, to people who were not like us. At Yad Vashem, they show you that it was recent. It happened 70 years ago. Less than 100. They show you that the people who it happened to were people just like us. People who had families just like us. Who had friends and co-workers just like us. People who were part of a community, just like we are. People who had done no wrong except being a Jew. The Holocaust is the most famous genocide, but this didn’t just happen to us Jews. It happened in Rwanda, it happened in Cambodia, it happened in Armenia. Things like it continue to happen TODAY in many places around the world. On this day of rememberance, I urge you to take a moment and put yourself in someone else’s shoes and try to understand what some people go through and have been through. Then think about a small way to make positive change in your own community. There are injustices happening all over the world right now on many different levels. We have to work together to recognize these incidents and speak out against them. As liberator Alan Moskin said recently “Don’t be a bystander, be an upstander.” Open your eyes, notice what’s wrong, and stand up for what you think is right.

A snapshot of how I felt 3 days after the murder of innocent people in Pittsburgh.

Tonight as I walked to the path, someone screamed in my direction “if you don’t believe Jesus was our savior, you are a walking zombie who is going to burn in hell.” I’ve heard this said to me so many times, for so many years, in so many different ways. Today, for the first time in 22 years, I felt scared for my safety. I sped up to stand next to the woman who had just yelled back at him thinking if I were close to her, she might protect me if he decided to do something to me. When I got to the station and I thought I might throw up. My vision got hazy and I began to weep. I stumbled down the subway stairs and landed on the platform. I stood there in a daze, looking around for somewhere to sit and catch my breath when I saw him. Standing there like a glimmering beacon of hope. A man. A short man. A short man with salt and pepper hair in a long black coat. A short man with salt and pepper hair in a long black coat, wearing a Kippah. A short man with salt and pepper hair in a long black coat, wearing a Kippah, reading his Siddur. Reading his Siddur in the middle of the station, for everyone to see. We were steps from the man who had just scared me so bad. My weeping quickly turned into sobbing. I went up to him and I thanked him. I couldn’t even express why I was thanking him, I just said the two words. “Thank you”. He understood what I meant. We stood next to each other for a while before he asked “are you okay”. I looked up and we met eyes for the first time. I said through tears “honestly I’m not okay. I’m scared.” His response: “don’t be scared, the anti-Semities remind us why being Jewish is so special.” We continued to chat all the way to Hoboken about a bunch of different things. He reminded me that this is our moment to be strong. To stand up even taller. To tirelessly fight for what we believe in. I will fight everyday for the rest of my life to make sure that man reading his Siddur on the subway tracks is safe to read his Siddur without having to feel scared. I can’t believe this is where we are right now.

This experience prompted me to return to my child hood synagogue. Here’s how that felt. (Nov. 3, 2018)

I went to Temple tonight. I think it was my first time there since my Bat Mitzvah. As I pulled up the familiar street, my mind flooded with memories. All memories that made me smile.
As I sat through the service, words I hadn’t sang in years came rushing through my head and out of my mouth. I remembered it all. Everything was the same. The service ended and the man next to me turned to me with a “shabbat shalom” and a handshake “you have a beautiful voice” he told me. “Don’t cry” I thought. “Shabbat Shalom, thank you so much” I said choking back tears. I walked out into the Hall and was met by the Rabbi. He walked over to me and put out his hand. I shook it and he asked “don’t I know you?” I told him he could have one guess as to who I was. He couldn’t. “Sarah Portney” I said. His face light up as his arms wrapped me in a warm hug. The same hug he gave me as he told me he was proud of me on my bat mitzvah day. We were excited to see each other. He told me I’m always welcomed. Then he walked me around to our cantor, his wife and our old hebrew school teacher each of whom he made guess who I was. Each one of them gave the same warm reaction. I chatted with Cantor Marcy and after a few exchanges she said “what happened, you just had to come home tonight?” “Don’t cry” I thought again. But she was right. I had to come home tonight. I expected some big sad speech from the Rabbi, but he didn’t do that. He reminded us that shabbat is a celebration, no matter what. A time to shed light on what’s dark. A time to reflect. I feel so lucky to be part of such a beautiful community. It sucks that something so terrible had to happen to remind me how much being Jewish has shaped who I am as a person, but I could not be more grateful for it. To many more shabbats and much more light

I never posted this blog post. It’s been almost two years. I think that posting it back then was scary because it meant my trip was coming to an end. It is time to complete this journey as I embark on a new one: Life.

2 years later, here’s my post from Morocco.

Morocco was so different from the other parts of Africa I visited. The climate, the landscape, the people, and the culture were very unique from the rest of the ports I had just come from. I went on a Semester at Sea run program called “Sahara Camel Trek” while I was in Morocco for all four days. We spent many long hours on a bus to get to the part of the desert we would be camping in. It was nice to drive through the country and watch out the windows. Our tour guide spit out facts and told stories as we drove about the places we were passing through. The meals we stopped for on our drive were so incredible. There was so much cous-cous (my favorite food) and such delicious meat. There was one dish that I need to find the name of that was Filo dough filled with an assortment of meat, topped with powdered sugar and cinnamon. It came to the table first, so wondering why they started with dessert, I took a bite and realized it was full of meat. It was such a weird taste but I loved it. After much driving around (and stopping to eat), we arrived at destination. We got on our camels and took off on a two and a half hour trek to our camp. The camels were really cute to look at, but not as cute to ride for 2.5 hours. By the end of the trek my legs were numb and my back was throbbing. I could not imagine using a camel as my main form of transportation. Our camp was so cool. It was just a circle of large tents with some tables and chairs in the middle. Once I got my things settled, I took my shoes off and headed out to explore the desert. The sand in the Sahara was the softest, finest sand I have ever felt. It felt like I was walking on a cloud. After dinner, stargazing, and swapping stories with friends it was time to crash. I woke up the next day around 6:15 to watch the sunrise. What an unforgettable sight. It was humbling to watch the orange sun come up over the sand dunes. We then trekked back on our camels and headed to Marrakesh. In Marrakesh, I got the chance to see a little more of the culture of Morocco. Something I noticed in my personal experience with the local people was how they valued relationships. It seemed in the market that if you built a relationship with a seller, or just chatted for a moment about something other than what you were buying, they gave you a lower price and treated you very respectfully. The market in Marrakesh may have been my favorite one on the whole trip. It was so colorful and lively. Morocco was such a unique port, and a great way to end my travels with Semester at Sea.

The four days I spent in Ghana were some of best days of my trip so far. The first day in Ghana, I went into the area of the city of Accra known as Nima. Here, I went on a street art tour with a few local guys who run a program that teaches local kids the importance of art and expression. We started our time there by meeting the local chief who told us about his role in keeping the peace within the community. Then we walked the streets of Nima with our local guides. As we walked around the area, the guys showed us the murals they had worked on with the local kids. They said that the murals have encouraged the local community to keep the painted areas clean and pick up trash around them. It was so great to hear these people speak so passionately about art and the impact it has on the community.

The following day, I set out to explore Accra by myself. I started my day by going to the Osu castle. Unfortunately, when I got there, I found out that the castle is closed on Saturdays. I was still able to see the fort and check out the surrounding area. From there, I went to the National Center for Culture, which is a place where local people come to sell art and other handicrafts. As I walked in, I heard someone call my name. I could not imagine who it could be and felt my body tense up. When I turned around, I saw one of my guides from the previous day’s art tour, Seidi. I went over to him and his friends who were sitting on a small bench on the outskirts of the market. His friends introduced themselves as Chaz – Nicknamed Ezy, and Jaguar. The three told me they were the “Neighborhood watch” and pulled a chair up for me to sit with them. I spent a few hours hanging out with them talking about music, local culture, and art. They took me to see their art, and introduced me to their friends and family. Seidi, who is a wood carver, also took me to see where he carves his pieces. We sat there, watched the local kids play soccer and exchanged email addresses. I then said goodbye to my new friends and they helped negotiate a fair cab price to take me back into the center of Accra. There, I grabbed a quick bite to eat, then caught the shuttle back to the Ship. I was not expecting this day to be anything great, but hanging out with these guys was truly such an amazing experience. They welcomed me into their little group and taught me so much more than I would have been able to learn walking around by myself. Seidi said he comes to the states every so often, so we are hoping we can catch back up with each other one day.

The next morning I headed out to the Togorme Village. My group and I drove about 2 hours outside of Accra where we finally reached the small village. Upon our arrival, all of the local children came running up to our bus waving and shouting. As we got off, we were welcomed into a traditional Ghanaian naming ceremony. Here they danced and sang for us. They also offered each person in our group a hand made pot with our English, and new African names on it. My name was Ama Mawuukem. After the ceremony, we met our host families. The representative from my host family, a boy about my age, picked up my roommate and myself and walked us around the village. About 15 young children quickly joined our walk, holding our hands and climbing all over us. These kids were amazing. They were asking me so many questions, touching my hair, and telling me facts about their village. They brought us to their school and told me how much they love class and love learning. As we rested, one boy asked if he could try my camera. I of course said yes and showed him how to zoom, focus and shoot. Soon after there was a mob of little kids patiently waiting to try out the camera. My only rule was that they had to put the strap around their neck. Then, we went back to our host family’s home to rest. Four little kids stayed in our room with us and taught me words in their local language. The girls asked if they could do my hair, which resulted in an hour of braiding and tugging. It was hysterical. On our way to dinner, we stopped at a village funeral. This funeral was like one I had never seen before. There was dancing, singing, drumming and drinking. I asked my host what was going on and he told me that in Ghana they celebrate a person’s life after they die rather than mourn. I love this idea, it made me think back to all of the funerals and deaths in my life, and the way I have reacted to them. It makes so much more sense to celebrate the time a person had on this earth with joy and celebration, than to spend days and weeks crying over their passing. I will remember this funeral forever and will try to bring these ideals into the way I deal with death back home. We ended our night with dinner, a bonfire, and a drum circle. As I tried to sleep on my small, bare, foam mattress, I was able to reflect and really appreciate the way of life in the village. The people there were so happy, and cared for one another. In the village of over 1,000 people, my host told me that he knows everyone. The next morning, we woke up to the sound of the rooster at about 4:45 am. We headed to breakfast, said a sad goodbye to the village people and headed out for a hike in the surrounding jungle area. After a few hours of hiking and exploring we headed back to our ship and ended our time in Ghana. My experience in Ghana was one full of welcome and friendship. I will never forget the kindness I experienced in both Accra and the Togorme village. I hope to go back to Ghana one day for a longer time frame so I can really immerse myself in the rich culture that envelops the country.

I can’t believe I am saying this, but on to our final stop – Morocco.

Cal chats with local kids in Ghana.

Collins and his friend in the Torgorme Village, Ghana.

South Africa was such a dynamic place. Cape Town was so modern and metropolitan. On my first night in Cape Town, I went on a Semester at Sea program titled “Cape Town Jazz evening”. Having signed up for the program sometime in November or December, I could not remember what exactly it entailed. As I got ready to go out to the bus, I was thinking we were going to a few jazz clubs and then dinner and coming back to the ship. I was thrilled when our tour guide announced we were actually going to the homes of local musicians and hearing them speak and play in the comfort of their own place. We got to the first musician’s house and his wife had made us a traditional dinner. He and his protégé played songs for us and told us how they started in music. We then moved on to another artist’s house where he and his band played traditional songs for us. They then asked if anyone wanted to get up and jam with them. While I have a background in music I am never the one to get up and advertise this. To my embarrassment, a friend called me out and the group pulled me up with them to sing Summertime with them. What an incredible experience. As the musicians improvised solos one after the other, they nodded to me letting me know when to come back in. It was such a special moment in my trip and reminded me how important music is and how greatly it can affect people. This night was unforgettable.

The next day, I went on a class trip led by my amazing professor, Dr. Pete Seel. He took us to Robben Island to learn more about the history of South Africa. Our tour guide, Itumeleng, who had been a political prisoner on Robben Island for 7 years, met us as we exited the ferry. He was incredible, I could not imagine going through what he went through on the Island, and being able to come back and speak so openly about it. I asked him how he was able to do this, and his response was “South Africa belongs to all who live in it.” We walked the grounds, heard stories, and were finally led to where Nelson Mandela served his time. As I looked into this tiny space, I began to cry. I could not imagine how Mandela could have lived in this cell, been treated the way he had been treated, and still come to change the country in such a positive way. Going to Robben Island was an incredible experience and taught me so much about the alarmingly recent history of South Africa. After Robben Island, we visited Mabu Vinyl. For those of you who have seen the Documentary “Searching for Sugarman”, you may recognize this name. Mabu Vinyl is the record shop owned by Steve Segerman, the star of the documentary who found the hit singer Rodriguez after so many years of mystery. We got to speak to Steve about music, the Anti Apartheid movement, and life since. We also got to meet a local journalist who spoke to us about her life in the field and how Apartheid and the censorship that stemmed from it affected the media world. As every trip Dr. Pete planned has been, this was such an interesting and informative day. That night, I met up with my old camp counselor who I had not seen in about 7 years. She grew up in Cape Town and lives there now. It was so awesome to get to see her again and get the inside scoop about the area.

Next, I went to the Fairy Glenn Game Reserve. The reserve is nestled under large mountain, making for a quiet serene landscape. I got to go on two game drives and saw so many animals. We saw four of the big five, everything but leopards. It was so cool to see all the animals living in harmony. Keeping with the animal theme, the next day I went shark cage diving. With an early start to the day – 3:30 am, we were driven to the boat where we were each given wet suits to put on. We rode off the coast a few miles and began to look for sharks. We got about 30 minuets in the actual cage. As sharks came close, the guides would yell “Down!” as we dove down to get a closer look at the sharks. I was terrified the whole time, even on the boat I was much closer to sharks than I would have ever wanted to be in my life.

I spent my final day in South Africa hiking Table Mountain. I’d say this “hike” was more of a climb. It was the most strenuous activity I think I have ever done. Once we got to the top, it was all worth it. The views from the top of the mountain were unforgettable and incomparable. My friends and I had planned to take the cable car down the side of the mountain, but to our dismay, the cable car was closed that day due to high winds. So, back down we hiked. It was exhausting, but it was worth it. Once we got to the base, we went to the local food market and ate as much as we could, as it was our last meal before we got back on the ship. The food (and ice cream) was so good. Then we returned to the ship for a much needed rest.

While South Africa was a great experience, you could see traces of its history everywhere you went. As our guide at Robben Island explained, Apartheid was ended on paper, but repercussions of it could be seen on an everyday basis throughout the country. It was unsettling to me how little people knew about the history of South Africa coming into the country. Apartheid was something that happened so recently, yet we are taught little about it in the US. I am excited to use my experiences and the things that I have learned from this trip to help my friends and family learn the same.

A Cheetah showing his tongue in Cape Town, SA.

A jam sesh in a home in Cape Town.

Itumeleng on Robben Island, Cape Town, SA.

A view of Table Mountain from Robben Island.

Elephants grazing in South Africa.

A Lion shows off his teeth in South Africa.

We have been on the ship a little longer than expected because of the missed port of Mauritius. While I was disappointed about skipping the island, it hasn’t been too bad catching up on sleep and school work. On the 13th of March we had “Sea Olympics” which is kind of like sleep away camp Color War. They divided everyone on the ship into seven seas that participated in events and games throughout the day. Some of the favorites were Tug-Of-War, Synchronized Swimming, and Trivia. There was then a “Closing ceremony” to announce the winner. My team came in 4th place, but the dance my roommate and I coached won first in it’s event. We were definitely more excited than 20-year-old people should have been over it, but what can you do. It was a fun day and was a good distraction from the loads of work we all have coming up as we approach finals, and the end of the trip.

Every day of this trip I have to pinch myself to remember that it’s not a dream. I often find myself having to take a step back to realize how insane it truly is. The other night I was sitting with friends on the 9th deck, that overlooks the ocean, when someone got a message on their phone that they now had cell service from Madagascar. A few hours later, we could see Madagascar off the Starboard side of the ship. Last night as we approached Africa, we could see city lights twinkling in the distance. My roommate Hannah and I were chatting and she said “Hey did you see Africa out the window?” and I responded with “Yeah! Did you see Madagascar the other night?” Hannah then pointed out how hilarious it was that this was just a casual conversation for us at this point. I truly cannot wrap my head around this whole experience. Visiting Africa has been on my bucket list for as long as I can remember and now I can see it out my bedroom window. I cannot wait to get there and experience all that it has to offer.

India was breathtaking. There were so many beautiful sights and colors. I was surprised at how much I loved the food. On the first day in Cochin, I visited an area called “JewTown”. I went to the old Paradesi Synagogue and was overwhelmed thinking about the history of the Jewish people. I learned so much that I had never known about the origin of the Jews. I also had the opportunity to meet the oldest living Jew in India, a 93 year old woman named Sarah Cohen who still hand embroiders beautiful pieces regularly. While we were shopping, my friends and I had an interesting encounter with one of the local rickshaw drivers. A random driver off the street followed us into a store, and told the shop owners that they brought us there and that he was looking to collect a commission because of it. The shop owners told us how the rickshaw guys are something like a little gang and that if they didn’t give them commission they’d come back at night with 20 more guys and try to fight the shop owners. They kindly asked us to come back in 10-15 minuets to complete our purchases. It was nuts. That night, I got to chance to meet local university students. They taught us about their culture and told us their favorite things to do in the area. It was interesting to meet people who were about my age and hear the differences and similarities to my life in America.

I then traveled to the Taj Mahal in Agra. It was overwhelming to stand in front of something you have seen in photographs and movies for so long. I almost felt like I was looking at a screen. When I went inside, I got the chills. The Taj was such a beautiful structure of love and I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I saw it in person. I also had the opportunity to visit Mother Theresa’s orphanage. This was an experience I will never forget. As we walked in, the sign out front read “Home of the Poorest of the Poor.” The Nuns explained to us how they took in people who have been rejected from society and have no one else in their lives. I have never seen anything quite like this place in my life. It really put life in perspective for me. Next stop was Delhi Where I stopped at the Dilli Haat market to pick up some beautiful handcrafts. I explored Delhi for a day, visiting local religious sites, and taking a rickshaw through the market places. From there, I flew back to Cochin to finish up my time in India. About an hour from Cochin, there was a small boating village that I was able to spend time exploring. I visited a weaving factory where local women were hand-weaving cloths to sell in the market. Then, my friends and I went on a boat ride through the small canals that ran through the village. We then got to see how the local people made food, and goods that they bring to the markets to sell.

India was an incredible experience. The culture was so rich and different from anything I had ever experienced before. A professor, Nelly, on our ship grew up in India and gave a talk about how we can help with the poverty issue in India from home. Nelly goes around on her home campus in the US and collects pennies. At the end of the year she changes the pennies to cash and brings it with her when she goes back to India. Nelly works with a specific community near her old home and helps buy school supplies for the local school. A few years ago, she was even able to build a public bathroom that 400+ families had access to. Rather than just throwing money at issues, Nelly physically goes to the community she is helping and interacts with the people there to figure out exactly what they need to make life better. I was inspired by Nelly’s talk and plan on helping her collect pennies when I get back home to the US.

My Semester at Sea journey is now more than halfway through. I am sad to see it coming to and end but there is still so much to see and experience. Unfortunately, our stop in Mauritius had to be cancelled due to a dispute between our ship owner and a 3rd party – not really sure what happened, BUT I cannot wait to reach South Africa. Stay tuned.

Gavin and a new friend outside the Taj Mahal.

A child living in Mother Theresa’s orphanage in Agra, India.

A nun working at Mother Theresa’s orphanage in Agra, India.

A local woman in a fishing village outside Cochin, India.

I did not know much about Myanmar upon entering the country. Recently I had been reading about the civil unrest in the country and was pretty nervous as we docked an hour outside of Yangon. The first night in Yangon, I visited the Shwedagon Pagoda. As we drove through the city, I could have never expected to be met with the beautiful gold decadence of the Shwedagon Pagoda. This was one of the most breathtaking sights of my life. There was such an air of peace around the pagoda, one that I will not soon forget. Day 2, I went on a full day tour of Yangon. Our first stop was the local Scott market where I was able to buy a beautiful water color of the Shwedagon, one of my best purchases on the trip so far. From there, we stopped by the national museum and learned a little more about the history of Myanmar. Our next stop was to a local Monastery. Here, we met with the young Monks and Nuns and had the opportunity to hear about their daily lives and exchange questions with one another about our respective cultures. This was a very cool experience. A lot of these monks and nuns were about my age so it was so interesting to be able to look into each other’s cultures while at the same time sympathize with one another regarding the normal pains and pleasures of being a 20 year old. Then, we visited the Shwedagon Pagoda again and it was just as breathtaking as it had been the day before.

I spent the two 2 days in the village of Kalaw, just a quick flight away. Here, I got the chance to visit Green Hill Valley elephant camp. The camp works with elephants that have been retired from the Myanmar Timber Enterprise. Htun, who runs the camp with his family, spoke to us about the mistreatment of elephants within the timber enterprise and how the camp works with the government to try to implement ways to help the elephants in captivity, and to spread awareness about the issues the country is facing today. He also explained that while the elephants come to the camp for food and bathing everyday, they are free to roam as they wish at night. (I highly recommend checking out ghvelephant.com for more information.) After we learned how the elephants ended up in the camp, we were ready to meet them. We got to chance to get in the water with them and bathe them. This was an incredible experience. You can’t truly understand the size of an elephant until you are right up next to them like that. Then, we got to feed the elephants. They were so cute and personable and were so happy to be getting attention (and food)! We then had the opportunity to plant Acacia trees, and see how the facility was working to replant and repopulate the local fauna. After the Elephant camp, we headed back down the mountain to our hotel in Kalaw for dinner and sleep. The next day, we woke up early and set out on a 4-hour trek through the local area. We got to see local farmers working in the fields, and young children laughing and playing. We trekked through the jungle, all the way up to a small village where our guides Mother in law prepared a snack for us. Our guides family was so welcoming. It made me think of and miss my family quite a bit. It also showed me how family values are something carried across so many cultures. We then moved on to lunch, which consisted of fried rice noodles. The noodles were so delicious; I miss them!! Then, we took a train back down the mountain. This train was like none I had ever been on before, with the fare costing only 20 cents and the car moving at only 18mph. It was a great way to take in the local area. From the train station, we got on bikes and rode around the village. We ended at the local market where we again had time to shop. Then we had time to rest and get dinner. Finally, the next day we headed back to the Heho airport and boarded our flight back to Yangon. With another quick stop at the Scott market, we then headed back to the ship. I did not have many expectations of Myanmar before I got there, but after leaving I can say that it was one of my favorite ports so far. The people were welcoming, the food was great, and the scenery was incredible. I’d like to make it back there one day and have a bit more time to really get a feel for the country. I get a sad feeling leaving every country I visit, but I know it is only motivation to keep traveling, and make my way back. Up next, India!

Pups laying in front of the Resting Buddha in Yangon, Myanmar.

An Elephant and his keeper in Kalaw, Myanmar.

Train tracks in Kalaw, Myanmar.

A local man smiles at passers by in Myanmar.

Brothers getting ready to ride the 23 hours train from Kalaw to Yangon, Myanmar.

Libby and our guide messing around in Kalaw, Myanmar.