Nicaragua

Nicaragua

Criton

May 2011

I decided to spend the day, wandering around this port city. So I wandered off the ship and out in to the very hot, sunny day. Once I left the secured port area, numerous bicycle taxi drivers accost me.

“Only $5, madam. One hour. Only $5”.

“Please, please madam. Come with me.  Only $5 US”. 

They call and beg and wear me down.  One young man smiles more broadly than the others.  I am his now and he knows it.

Joseph is to be my guide for the next hour.   With his broken English and my very, very limited Spanish, we converse as best we can.  And I enjoy every minute of his company and understand maybe 45% of what he told me.  He is 21, married and has a 7-month baby, Ashley, who is a great source of pride for him.  He wants to take me to meet his family. And when he makes the offer, I am defensive and hesitant.  Is this a scam? Is he going to take me to some place where I am going to be robbed?  I am not as young as I used to be and I have to stop taking risks.  But then I thought, “Do I really?”  What if I don’t make it through today?  I’ve had a pretty good life up to this point.  This wouldn’t be a bad exit point.  And do I want to become suspicious of everyone’s motives?  Do I want to be so damn defensive? My gut tells me to go and see and so off we went. 

And when we arrive at his house, he is so happy to see this little, beautiful daughter of his.  His quite, petite wife stands beside him, dutifully and quietly.  She runs and fetches him a cold glass of water.  And she poses for a family portrait at my request.  She stands in the background as Joseph does all the speaking for the both of them.

I wandered down the street and take photos of the neighborhood. Joseph wanted to come with me but at my insistence, Joseph stays behind and played with his little girl.

The streets are quiet and void of cars.  There are motorcycles and kids playing soccer and people on the steps.  This port fits my image of modern Cuba: simple, quiet, hot, friendly people.

I ask Joseph if I can go inside his house.  He seems hesitant at first.  But then he agrees. I wonder if he compromised himself in hopes of gaining a better tip from me.  I hope not.  Bit I do really want to go inside.

The house had no lights on as just one small effort to reduce any more heat.  The windows are opened and have window guards, as did the front door.  The cider block walls and the linoleum floors remind me of an old school classroom. 

The two couches are upholstered and ugly, ripped in multiple places so that no matter where you sit, the exposed, hot foamed cushions touch your skin. 

There is a large wooden desk with an old, dusty PC in full view.  A few family photos adore the chipped walls, which are badly in need of a fresh coat of paint.

Joseph shows me some family portraits and a trophy he won in high school for football.  His sister in law sits on the couch, nursing her baby and watching a soap opera on the television.  She completely ignores us.  I say hello but she does not respond. Joseph’s wife had vanished and I am not invited to view any more of the house.  But it looks as if there may have been two more rooms behind some shower curtains.

Joseph tells me that he and his brother and spouses lived in his house.  And then he indicates that his parents also live here.  But I am not sure I got this right.

As we leave, Joseph turned to me, and then he looks around, smiles widely and gestures with pride and said, “My house.  This is my house.”  I tell him it was beautiful. The wife reappears and I take a few more photos and off we go back to port.  

Another Day In Paradise

Cozumel, Mexico

May, 2013

Today is a day in Paradise, literally and figuratively.  I am at the Paradise Beach Club at the San Francisco Beach in Cozumel, Mexico.  This is what the doctor ordered.  I didn’t plan anything today because I thought I would be too tired and it’s my last day and the end of a trip always makes me a little melancholy.  So right now, I am sitting in a lounge chair under a big blue umbrella, drinking a mango margarita, listening to reggae music and enjoying the detached company of everyone else on this beach who feels so damn lucky to be here today. At add to this wonderful moment, there is a Macaw Parrot circling around my chair, checking me out.

I have my camera, my journal, my snorkeling equipment, a bucket of beer and cash.  I am set for a day of sleeping, swimming, snorkeling and drinking.  Enough said about this great day.

Inappropriate Behaviors

Notice on the Explorer Newsletter

May 2011

I am traveling on a ship with other well traveled individuals who claim to be professional photographers or at least semi-professional photographers ("Yes, I have had some of my photos published in magazine".) So many of  us take liberties on just about everything and anything that could possibly be a great photo opportunity.  Yesterday, at dinner, someone had a heart attack and a Code Blue was called over the PA system. This got everyone's attention and it appears as if it caused some people to respond immediately, regardless of how inappropriate.  As a result, we were all reprimanded:

“Code Blue alerts are to summon trained first responders to the site of an emergency.  These alerts should only be responded to by crew and medical staff.  Passengers are asked to step away from the situation and allow our team to provide the needed assistance.  Privacy in times of challenges is a privilege that we all deserve.  Please refrain from capturing these tenuous moments.  Specifically, we ask that for the privacy of the compromised individual that you do not take photographs or videos.”

CODE BLUE

CODE BLUE

April 2013

MS Explorer

Pacific Ocean

“Attention all guest.  Attention all guest.”  The voice over the PA is calm and clear. “Code blue in the dining room.  Code blue in the dining room.” And the message stopped all of us in our tracks. It sent a shiver down my spine.  A few minutes later, the alert signal is sounded again.  “Would the ship’s doctor please report to the dining room?  Would the ship’s doctor please report to the dining room?”  And the silence that followed was deafening.  And I sit back and wonder how much critical time has elapsed since the passenger collapsed.  And where the hell is the doctor?

I wait to go to dinner because I don’t think another spectator is needed in the dining room right now.  So maybe it’s a half hour before I make my way up there.  There is no indication of a crisis.  But I see and hear two crew members frantically searching the entire boat, looking for the ship’s doctor.  He is nowhere to be found.

“Where do you think he is”, asked the officer to his crew member.  His tone indicated to me that he was worried.

“I don’t know. Do you think we could have left his at port?  We don’t have him checked out but where is he.” They quietly peek in and out of every door.

That news sent a little panic through me.  What if we did leave the doctor behind?  Would we ever see him again?  And what if we have an emergency within the next two days at sea.  Who will take care of us?

The next day, I learned that the doctor was out on the observation deck, watching for whales when the code blue alert was announced.  Apparently the PA system does not go out to the front of the boat.  So the crew had an emergency meeting and came up with Plan B for the next emergency which incidentally was this afternoon.  They didn’t have to call for the doctor this time so their new plan must have worked.

NAPPING

NAPPING

I am sliding into the routine of parking myself on my big, comfortable blue corduroy chair and  closing my eyes for “just a few minutes”. Two hours later, I wake up with drool on my blouse, my neck stiff from being cranked in an awkward position and befuddled because I can’t figure out how another afternoon slipped away from me.

To read more stories, check out:   bkmemoirs.blogspot.com

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Where Do You Want to Go?

Where Do You Want to Go?
A Conversation with an Acquaintance
Elkton, MD
Summer 2015

"You're a brave gal for going to India or maybe you're just crazy. I don't know. I think it's more of the latter," she tells me as she comments on my recent trip to the Ganges River.

"So going to India is not your cup of tea?" I ask with a bit of sarcasm.

"Nope, not even the slightest interest" she says in a voice of great certainty. "you know me, I don't like humanity and there is too much humanity in India.  They must do something about that population problem."

"Well, where would you want to go?" I ask.

"I only want to go to places where they speak English and everyone is blond- haired and blue-eyed: Ireland, England, Norway, Scotland.  Places like that," she definitively tells us as our friend, with a beautiful bi-racial son, listens in.

Kite Man

The Kite Man

Henan Province, China

Spring 2012

This man comes to the town square every Sunday and flies his tattered, old penguin kite.  He comes by himself and flies the kite for about an hour and then he leaves.  I would see him every time I came to the square.  He would emerge from the crowd out of nowhere and he would pick a spot, away from everyone else. After an hour, he pull his kite down, meandered back in to the crowd of people and disappeared from my sight.

Power To The People- China

POWER TO THE PEOPLE

Sias University
Henan Province, China
World Academy for the Future of Women Program

April 2012

I am in the midst of some girl conflict, something I thought I left behind when I left the principalship.  But I guess this is all part of life, no matter where I go in the world.  Anyway, April 12 is the opening of sports week.  I think there will be lots of athletic competitions and I have been asked to join the faculty hula-hoop team and I AM NOT GOING TO DO THAT.

The student manager of WAFW came to see me with what she said was great news: “For the first time, the World Academy for the Future of Women has been asked to be in the opening parade and I think we might be first in line which will be a great honor.  We need to have at least 50 participants and everyone must wear the same uniform”.  

I told my student leader that we would participate but she had to organize everything since she knew what to expect.  So off she went to organize the first planning meeting. She came back and told me that we were all set.  We had the 50 participants.  

But I later heard some rumblings.  Even though we have 100 women in the academy, only 32 want to participate. So 18 students are being forced to participant.  As it was told to them, it is their duty and honor to participate.  Then there was a discussion on what to wear.  It was decided by a few that they would wear black skirts, a white blouse, white athletic shoes and everyone would buy a vest for 20 RMB (about $3.15 or three meals).  Those who were not involved with the parade were told that they would also have to buy the vest and come to all of the practices as well because it would only be fair.  Everyone had to suffer. This caused an uproar and I started to hear about it.

 I spoke to my student leader and asked for her side of the story. “It is China’s way,” she tells me, matter of factly.  “We do things for the duty of our academy and the university.  We have been honored and we have to accept.”  When I suggested that we only include those students who were interested, she stoically said, “No, we need more members and we have to force them to do this.  That is our way.”

I knew she had another meeting with her classmates in an hour. So I tried to coach her on the art of persuasion and I thought we were on the same page. I sent her off with some suggestions on how she could quell the rumbles. She liked my ideas, thanked me and went off with new optimism.

Then I got an email form a disgruntled student.  My student leader sent out a text message that everyone had to come to the next practice and anyone who missed the practice would be immediately expelled from WAFW.

I decided to go to the practice to intervene.  When I got there, it was announced that my student leader was not going to be attending the meeting because she had made dinner plans with one of the foreign teachers.  I couldn’t believe it.  But that did not seem to bother the others. They didn’t seem to think this was a double standard. So I spoke to the students and told them that no one had to be in the parade.  They had a choice.  And if we didn’t have the required 50 participants, we would have to reject the honor to participate.  And if we did not march, we were not to bully those who did not want to participate.  I told the students that they were to notify me by midnight to let me know if they were not going to be involved.  The choice was theirs.  One student said she was not going to participate.  One student said she is not going to wear the skirt because when she bends over, you can see her underpants and that embarrassed her.  With the exception of one student, the other disgruntled students did not contact me.

Below is an email I got from one of the disgruntled students:

“Bridget, today you've set a great example of leadership for us. I'm always thinking about what you have said and done. You gave us a platform to speak out our opinions and you also encouraged us to earn our honor of the whole team and fight for our team glory. As I've told you, I'm really worried about TEM 4. That's the first important exam for English major. And I want to get a good performance. However, after hearing what you said, I felt ashamed if we could not participate in the parade for the lack of me. So I decide to take part in the parade if I'm needed to make up of 48.  In that case, I will buy a vest. I have to say it again that I want to be a person like you, patient, encouraging, influential, respectful and respectable”.

I wrote back to the student and told her that I wanted to be more like her.  Then I offered to buy her vest because I just know how poor she is.  Here is her response:

“No, Bridget. Thank you so much, but please do not do that! You came to China to teach us leadership and management abilities, which mean a lot to me, especially in my process of growth. I am grateful and appreciate all you have done. And I don't like to cost you more. Being a friend with you is a treasure. Learning from you is enough. Plus, I did not concern so much about the money but the way of human reaction and behavior. I realized people are easily constrained by their positions. When we are common people, we tend to surrender to the authorities, even serving them like servants. We lose our own voices and minds, though sometimes we are given opportunities to speak. Once we are in the position of decision, we'll become the ones who we were used to hate yet envy. It is a severe phenomenon in China. I, too, feel restricted by unknown things, maybe customs, or the way I was raised. But I'm trying to fly freely. And you are my role model.”

Certainly, this student is very complementary to me. But that is not why I am writing this story.  I just continue to be amazed at the general acceptance of authority.  In all aspects of their lives, they sit back and wait to be told.  They are told want to do and they do what they are told.  Now, we, Americans, are slipping in to their lives and talking to them about giving voice to women and just when I think they understand what we are trying to accomplish, I see that we aren’t even close to our goal.  When I spoke to my student leader again the next day, she told me she just doesn’t know any other way to get people to do things if you don’t force them, bully them and threaten them.  “It’s China’s way” is a response I heard from her and from so many other students on numerous occasions. She spoke with sincerity and a genuine interest in the academy, and with the only leadership style she knows.

To read more stories, check out:   bkmemoirs.blogspot.com

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