Hiya, sports fans. In case you haven't been keeping score, I'm on Semester at Sea and ran into some friction last week for things I wrote in this very column. Apparently, SAS employees have something called Google Alert, which ogles sweet lady Internet for any mentions of their institution and informs them of their existence.
My words were described by some as "disconcerting," "presumptuous" and the academic dean even used my phrase "questionable academic difficulty" in his opening speech! Yikes! So, as a service to all you lovely readers out there, I would like to start off by debunking any assumptions or rumors I mentioned previously to soothe the minds of concerned individuals.
-- Four-to-one girl/guy ratio: This was the erroneous calculation of some knucklehead on the Semester at Sea Facebook group. Tragically, it's closer to 2:1, and my random sample indicates that approximately 75 percent of the ladies shipboard have boyfriends back at home. Pour one out for the fellas, my friends.
-- I'm going to chill with Father Archbishop Nobel Laureate Renaissance Man Desmond Tutu: Upon meeting him and asking what I had to do to score an interview, he said that he didn't have any say in it and I had to go through the "executive dean" to arrange one. Oh, the humanity! I could do what he said I should do, but instead I have a daring plan. I'll keep you posted on this intrepid journey to a conversation with that wacky archbishop.
-- Courses on Semester at Sea are of "questionable academic difficulty:" You know, questionable technically just means I'm not sure, so this one's still true. However, I'll toss you the benefit of the doubt and put it out there that these seem like some pretty interesting classes. There's one about which I have some ranting to do, but you'll see that soon enough.
Now, let's talk food. I had no idea what to expect upon boarding, but the dining hall meals here were a pleasant and heavenly surprise. The seafood dishes are especially delectable, with every bite of their various fish selections a soft, flaky, smooth delight of the briny deep. As a self-described man of potatoes, I am also a huge fan of their starch selections. These guys are all across the board with tater concoctions, and every single one is a veritable Valhalla of sensual satisfaction.
The desserts are no pushover either, and the serving of a different flavor of juice with every new meal brings diversity into my culinary life that is both culturally and soulfully enriching.
Except for grapefruit. Grapefruit and I have been at odds, and I'm not sure we'll ever really understand each other. After hours, the smoothies offered on deck seven are almost beyond words in terms of a wonderful marriage of smooth, sweet and tangy. I'll even go so far as to say they're completely worth it at $3.50 a pop, although Father Tutu gets them for free. I hope I get free smoothies one day without having to do as much stuff as he did.
Our first port, San Juan (from which we departed two days ago) was a fun time with fun things. I ate fried food and drank fried Bacardi, which they offered for free at the tourist center.
I won't spend too much time on this because our next port, Brazil will be far more interesting, as I can't even pretend to speak the language. One thing does bear mentioning, however. Of all the trips that are available through Semester at Sea, the most rewarding ones have thus far been those that you don't really plan.
Allow me to expound: I've met some good, fun people on this "voyage of discovery" (and if there's hope for a career introvert like me to do so, there certainly is for you, the average Joe 8-pack), and the last day in PR we found ourselves in a post office loudly and raucously writing vulgar and obscene postcards to each other's friends. It cost maybe five bucks at most -- 10 if you count the freaking awesome flute/pen combo I bought to write with -- and it was really fun in a way I can't justly describe in words.
The moral of the story here is that when you travel abroad, although perhaps it's best not to perpetuate the notion that we are all obnoxious, xenophobic, jerkbag Americans -- and maybe it's sort of culturally enlightening to be the quintessential tourist and go on all the excursions -- don't forget that we are still young, and we are still American. It's OK to cut loose sometimes.
That's about all for now; we're about to pass Barbados and I want to shake my fist angrily at it from the observation deck for gypping me out of 10 bucks a few years back.
Erik Silk's columns run whenever they wash up in a bottle. He cannot be reached because he is lost at sea.
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