Uh... Mauritus, India, Myanmar...Singapore... *sigh*

I want to be some sort of mysterious golden god. “Wouldn’t that be nice” I think to myself. Oh yes, sure it would…. Even better it would be great to be wise. If indeed wisdom is a talent bought with experience then I am well on my way to Solomon standards. What the great stories of old never tell you is that all of the stout hearted, well respected, figures of timeless stories bought their wisdom with darkness and tears.
I’m in the Straights of Malacca. One of the few remaining locations in the world plagued with piracy. Even as I sit typing the crew stands on deck gazing across the bleak waters with fire hoses coiled about their feet hissing softly in the eerie mist. They’re waiting…. Waiting for some small boat to come purring through the gloom towards us breathing flame and spewing RPGs at our hull in the hopes that the countless treasures of her belly will spill forth. And who can blame them, the Nation’s wealthiest have sent forth their children into the world bejeweled and naïve. We are a golden cradle pulsing through the Orient, dollars signs puffing from our masts.
I digress.
I made it home from South Africa, clearly. We ended up hitch-hiking across the country, riding in anything that would pick us up. By the time we strode into Cape Town we had traveled in everything from the flat bed of a semi to the back seat of a Volkswagen Golf as it blared Savage Garden bearing its owners to meet their internet lovers.
We made it… poor and hungry, but alive with adventure. I spent the last day in Cape Town with Lianne. The very same Lianne who came to the Tri-Cities four years past as an exchange student and who now works as the camera woman for a group making nature films in the Serengeti. We passed the time reminiscing about the days of old.
I’ve been to India, where my old friend (the ever charming and verbose) Smita’s father was the port authority of Chennai. I spoke to him for a time before venturing off into the wilds of the most foreign port I had yet to encounter. It was the small stone carving village of Mamalampuram that halted my forward motion and housed my weary soles for few nights. I made friends with a few local students and together we explored their home town. As the days flew past I found my way back towards Chennai and eventually to the ship after traversing the ancient paths of the Hindu faith.
Shortly after we made our way to the dictatorship of Myanmar. A place I still find myself to close to talk about. I would have stayed there for a great deal longer if not for the fact that for now my duties lie aboard the good ship Explorer. Well, that and I was also a governmental felon due to the length of my hair. Another series of rather untimely events led me to finding a need to employ a black market driver to speed me across the border and back to the ship sooner than we had expected.
This much I will relate, of all the countries to date… Myanmar was by far the most beautiful and serene, though under the sway of a military dictator. I will be posting my thoughts on this country and the adventures held within shortly; however I have class (strangely enough…) and should go do some real work I suppose.

Until next time.