Though I am well travelled within Europe, having spent much time specifically in France, Spain, and Italy, I am far less acquainted with the United States of America. I have lived in Westchester, NY, and, though a ship is currently my home, I pay rent on an apartment in Hoboken, NJ. I have stayed with friends in LA, celebrated many Passovers in Miami, shot a commercial in Baltimore, slept over at a summer camp friend's house in Connecticut, skiied in Vermont, vacationed in Hawaii with my parents, and spent one Christmas with my ex's family in Philly. Most of the people I regularly spend time with are either Long Island Jews, Westchester Jews, or born and bred New York City Jews. With the odd Goyim* from some state not on the East coast or West coast of America. This is vastly different to my social network in London, where I had a couple of handfuls of friends from various parts of Asia, a couple of best friends from Northern Ireland, and a whole bunch of friends from places that sound very English -- Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, and Wimbledon, for instance. And none of them a Jew.
When I left New York to work on a ship, I once again became the sole Jew among a huge diversity of colleagues that includes Brits, Aussies, Yankees, Europeans, and Asians. I spend alot of time with an ex-Mormon from Indiana called Dan** who, within the first five minutes of our meeting, told me that he comes from a family of Rednecks. Those were his words, not mine. In all the friendships that I have made, I have never become friends with someone who openly refers to themself as a Redneck, and I don't believe that I have ever met someone from Indiana. (I have met quite a few Mormons, though.) I don't know anything about Indiana, except what I've heard from Dan. He knows alot about corn and how to shuck it. He comes from a family who lives from paycheck to paycheck and has constantly referred to himself as someone who is trying to grow up and out of this world of Rednecks.
I challenged Dan about the use of the term "Redneck." It is a term that, in my interpretation, has negative connotations: no class, bad morals, unintelligent. These are the first things that come to mind when I hear the term, "Redneck." I knew within the first five minutes of meeting Dan that he is none of these. And if he is none of these, I would assume that he was raised by people who are also none of these. "My family is poor," Dan answered when I challenged him. Poverty does not equate to having no class, just as richness does not equate to having class. "There are plenty of people with alot of money with no class," I said to Dan. We discussed this notion, and came to the joint conclusion that Dan's family may not have alot of money, but they are a good family with good values and therefore, they are not Rednecks. As I have come to know Dan more, it is clear that there is much love in his family, and in my unwavering opinion, if you come from a family with strong love, you are already starting out on the right foot to wherever you want to go. Let me be rich in love over having richness in gold any day.
This boy from Indiana, he refers to America as, "THE BEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD!" Underneath the joking nature in which he makes this proclamation, there is a strong patriotism. On New Year's Eve, he proudly sang the national anthem acapella in the piano bar onboard. Well, I couldn't wait for Dan, who had never been outside the United States, to experience the Mediterranean. He was not as impressed as I had hoped he'd be, but this may be justified as we didn't get many opportunities to see anything that wasn't a heaving tourist attraction. Every time we had pizza, Dan enjoyed it, but kept saying how much he missed Chicago's deep dish pizza. Every time we went out in port and things were closed, Dan said he missed the ease and accessibility of the American way of life. I personally feel that this accessibility is having severe repercussions on the nation, but that is another discussion altogether. I wish Dan had experienced Europe in its true form, not the form as built by tourism. I wish we could have gone to a small Italian village where no one speaks English and had some homemade focaccia while walking around the local street fair then finish of the day with gelato. Nonetheless, it was fun watching Dan drink a decent cup of coffee! I think the coffee in Europe is the one thing he prefers outside of the States.
Dan and I have both taken to getting regular massages on the ship. Massages are my vice, and I have been having regular massages for years. I would never have expected a self-titled Redneck to also take to this habit. But, Dan did, and when I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he said (and this is verbatim): "just a simple hot stone massage." I replied, "WHAT? Did you just hear yourself?! A dude who comes from Indiana, who calls himself a redneck, who lived by poor means, wants 'just a SIMPLE hot stone massage?!'" And we laughed and laughed and laughed, and I was so happy that this small town boy who is trying to make something bigger of his life has been given an opportunity such as this. For Christmas, Dan received a cast iron teaset from his Secret Santa, and I showed him how to steep a perfect pot of oolong tea. As we sat in his cabin sipping oolong, I was proud of Dan, for already being the sort of person he aspires to be, for never shunning his roots, and for serving as a reminder to me that there is always the opportunity to grow, to change, and to learn.
I find it fascinating that an ex-Mormon from Indiana and a Chinese-Jew from London, Singapore, and Westchester can be of such similar ilks. I like to hear of his world, where he would shuck his mom's home grown corn and he likes to hear of my world, where I had learned how to use chopsticks before I had reached double digits in age. We meet somewhere in-between, in a world where we dream just as big as each other. Even though our experiences are vastly different, our dream of making it on Broadway is the same. We are both one step closer, and many cups of European coffee and Taiwanese oolong fuller.
*A non-Jew
**Name has been changed to protect privacy
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Paradise: Not Just A Daydream
When I decided to sign a contract for Royal Caribbean, I had absolutely no idea that this decision would lead to what has been the stuff that daydreams are made of. You know when you watch a movie, and the setting is so beautiful and the characters have such remarkable experiences, that you never imagine that such a life can exist (the Hawaiian paradise in "50 First Dates," and the resort setting in "Wizards of Waverly Place: The Movie" spring to mind)? I have found that, if you have enough time and money to fund it, this exquisite life does exist. If you don't have the money for travel and accomodation, then working on a ship provides an easy answer: get paid to entertain the guests by night, and by day, use your wages to jump off cliffs in Capri, visit The Vatican in Rome, and swim with dolphins in Mexico (being sure to capture a shot of yourself beveling in each location).
Until visiting the island of Capri, I thought that it was a type of trousers and a Colbie Caillat song, which, having never paid attention to the lyrics, I had no idea was actually about the island. Upon entering Capri, we sat down for a tea and coffee, where the friendly restaurant manager told us that, if we wanted to hire a boat, he would sort it out for us at a "special rate." This rate sounded reasonable, and we took him up on the deal. We spent 3 hours being driven around the island on our own private boat by a local man who, though very quiet, answered all of our stupid tourist questions and spoke of interesting facts and sights. The highlight of the day was having the chance to jump off the cliffs into the sea. I am uncomfortable swimming in the sea for fear of scary marine life, and had to be coaxed out of the boat to swim to the cliffs. Once on the cliffs, there were 3 different heights at which one could jump. I watched a few of my friends jump from the highest point. I opted for jumping from the middle point as a warm-up for the top. After jumping and climbing back onto the cliffs, I looked over the top ledge and tried to convince myself that I could do it, but I was shaking and too afraid and yelled, "what if I have a heart attack on the way down???" My heart was racing so fast, I actually thought that it might stop on the way down. Having swam in the sea was one fear conquered that day, and my nerves got the best of me, so I jumped off from the middle point again, nonetheless happy to have jumped off a cliff in Capri. How many people in the world have had such a chance?
When in Rome, I suppose that one should visit The Vatican and the Sistine Chapel, right? So, we did, and now I can say that I have. Would I ever do this again? Absolutely not. Though not a believer of organised religion, I still fancy myself to be more spiritually inclined that the average-Jane (I mean, having consultations with astrologers and psychics makes me pretty spiritual, right??). However, I found our visit to Vatican City to be absolutely lacking in any spiritual or religious inclination. It cannot be denied that the architecture is astounding. The disappointing fact that all the money spent on the buildings could feed a couple of 3rd world nations did not make it less astounding to me, but it did tarnish my faith in the "faithful." I felt the tourism factor to be as high as in Orlando, creating a further incongruence. This was especially highlighted when we went to see the Sistine Chapel, and waited on line for what felt like over an hour, because as you enter the museum, you are taken into a queue that is not unlike the waiting lines at Disneyworld, and it moves frustratingly slowly while it gets increasingly stuffy. By the time we saw Michelangelo's famous creation, we looked up for 30 seconds, said to each other, "that's it?" and huffed and puffed our way out of the museum. I would choose a day spent in the Louvre over a day spent at Vatican City in a heartbeat. At least we had the opportunity to go, and, for all the exasperation of the day, we still were glad to have witnessed this important slice of history. We then had slices of fresh and delectable pizza along the waterfront.
By the time Liberty of the Seas left the Mediterannean for the Caribbean, it was growing cold and grey, and we were more than ready for the promise of sun and sand. Having been in the Carribbean for two weeks, I proclaim myself as one of the luckiest people in the world. The Caribbean has given us some of the best experiences of our lives. And we didn't even have to pay airfare.
A trait (flaw?) of mine which my parents have never been able to understand, is how much I adore tackiness. Having opted not to live in the States for many years, they love the grace and charm of Europe. They would happily join my ship on a Mediterranean cruise, but I probably couldn't pay them to take a Caribbean cruise. As for me, the second I saw the port of Belize with all its gaudy, colorful buildings and cheap stalls, my excitement sky rocketed. We decided to take a snorkeling tour, which included a stop at a tiny island called Goff's Caye. During the boat ride to Goff's Caye (named after a British general), we were entertained by a couple of locals who fed us amusing tidbits about Belize (did you know that orange juice can be made of 98% Belize oranges and 2% Florida oranges, and still be marketed as Floridian orange juice?) and flirted with the ladies like dogs in heat. Goff's Caye was simply beautiful, and though there were other people on it, we still felt like we were on our own little private paradise. We spent an hour snorkeling. Unfortunately, the visibility was only about 70%, and we didn't see an abundance of sea life, but I was just grateful that there were no sharks to encounter. I'm suprised that I had as much fun as I did, considering my fear of swimming in the ocean. I'm even looking forward to snorkeling again. After oooohing and aaaaahing at the fish and coral, we went back to Goff's Caye where a man with a single barbeque prepared for us our choice of lobster or chicken. There was also complimentary rum punch flowing, and it was a funny sight watching our guides, who had made sure that we were all safely back on land, now tossing the rum punch back along with shots of the harder stuff.
Next up on our itnerary was the best yet: a day at Chankanaab National Park in Cozumel, Mexico, swimming with dolphins. Within two minutes of arriving at the park, I had a parrot on my head and a gigantic lizard (some sort of dragon??) in my arms. As my friends pulled out their cameras, we were told that it would be $5 per picture. We happily let ourselves be ripped off to document this hilarious encounter. We spent an hour with 2 female dolphins, Alexia, and America (Ryan, my colleague from Indiana, who is constantly proclaiming America as the best country in the world, was ecstatic that he got to kiss America). America's 7 month old calf was being trained in the arena that we were swimming in, so we also got to spend time with the baby, which was a very special treat. As it was the birthday of my colleague, Lucas, our trainer got America and Alexia to sing happy birthday for him, another lovely treat. After saying goodbye to our dolphin friends, we met 3 manatees, who are known as elephants of the sea. They are adorably ugly and gigantic, but the trainer told us that, regardless of their size, manatees are always gentle and never ever threatening. Due to this, they are an endangered species with only about 3000 left in the world. We got to feed one of the manatees, a male named Angel, carrot and papaya. Cue our own lunch time. We found the restaurant, where our waiter said that we could order lunch on the beach. Fantastic! So we ate our lunch in the comfort of big wooden beach chairs under the shade of huge umbrellas made of bark. The beach was nowhere near crowded, and it definitely beat the atmosphere of the over-populated beaches that I have been to in Florida. I took myself exploring and found a "spa," which consisted of an open hut on the edge of a lagoon with 4 massage tables. There are few things I enjoy more than getting a massage, so I treated myself to a 45 minute deep tissue massage. During the massage, I floated away feeling the breeze on my skin and hearing the birds chirping away. It started to rain and the sound of raindrops added to this most magical of experiences. With a couple of hours left before we had to leave, I spent the rest of the day drinking juice out of a coconut and sunbathing. I asked the bar tender to chop the coconut open when I finished the juice so that I could eat the meat, and it was delightful. I didn't want our perfect day at Chankanaab park to end.
Interspersed throughout our Caribbean cruises are port days in Ft. Lauderdale where running errands like depositing money at the bank and picking up bits and bobs at the mall are a real novelty. I cannot believe how good life is right now. Perhaps it is the Universe's gift to me after 2 years of anxiety and struggling in NYC. Would life be this good if I booked a Broadway show? I honestly am not sure how attractive the idea of returning to a city environment sounds right about now. There would be no beaches, no dolphins, no cliffs...
The point is, I am not sure what I want to do after this contract. It has certainly raised alot of questions that I am not yet ready to answer. Having beaches at my fingertips may turn into an addiction. However will I feed that addiction back in New York? Should I move to Hawaii? Spend a year living with my folks in Spain? Sign another ship contract? Return to the city to continue fighting for a place on Broadway? I hold onto the faith that answers will come to me in the way that they have always done: by pursuing the things that make me most happy. I am a most happy (and lucky) daydreamer in paradise.
Until visiting the island of Capri, I thought that it was a type of trousers and a Colbie Caillat song, which, having never paid attention to the lyrics, I had no idea was actually about the island. Upon entering Capri, we sat down for a tea and coffee, where the friendly restaurant manager told us that, if we wanted to hire a boat, he would sort it out for us at a "special rate." This rate sounded reasonable, and we took him up on the deal. We spent 3 hours being driven around the island on our own private boat by a local man who, though very quiet, answered all of our stupid tourist questions and spoke of interesting facts and sights. The highlight of the day was having the chance to jump off the cliffs into the sea. I am uncomfortable swimming in the sea for fear of scary marine life, and had to be coaxed out of the boat to swim to the cliffs. Once on the cliffs, there were 3 different heights at which one could jump. I watched a few of my friends jump from the highest point. I opted for jumping from the middle point as a warm-up for the top. After jumping and climbing back onto the cliffs, I looked over the top ledge and tried to convince myself that I could do it, but I was shaking and too afraid and yelled, "what if I have a heart attack on the way down???" My heart was racing so fast, I actually thought that it might stop on the way down. Having swam in the sea was one fear conquered that day, and my nerves got the best of me, so I jumped off from the middle point again, nonetheless happy to have jumped off a cliff in Capri. How many people in the world have had such a chance?
When in Rome, I suppose that one should visit The Vatican and the Sistine Chapel, right? So, we did, and now I can say that I have. Would I ever do this again? Absolutely not. Though not a believer of organised religion, I still fancy myself to be more spiritually inclined that the average-Jane (I mean, having consultations with astrologers and psychics makes me pretty spiritual, right??). However, I found our visit to Vatican City to be absolutely lacking in any spiritual or religious inclination. It cannot be denied that the architecture is astounding. The disappointing fact that all the money spent on the buildings could feed a couple of 3rd world nations did not make it less astounding to me, but it did tarnish my faith in the "faithful." I felt the tourism factor to be as high as in Orlando, creating a further incongruence. This was especially highlighted when we went to see the Sistine Chapel, and waited on line for what felt like over an hour, because as you enter the museum, you are taken into a queue that is not unlike the waiting lines at Disneyworld, and it moves frustratingly slowly while it gets increasingly stuffy. By the time we saw Michelangelo's famous creation, we looked up for 30 seconds, said to each other, "that's it?" and huffed and puffed our way out of the museum. I would choose a day spent in the Louvre over a day spent at Vatican City in a heartbeat. At least we had the opportunity to go, and, for all the exasperation of the day, we still were glad to have witnessed this important slice of history. We then had slices of fresh and delectable pizza along the waterfront.
By the time Liberty of the Seas left the Mediterannean for the Caribbean, it was growing cold and grey, and we were more than ready for the promise of sun and sand. Having been in the Carribbean for two weeks, I proclaim myself as one of the luckiest people in the world. The Caribbean has given us some of the best experiences of our lives. And we didn't even have to pay airfare.
A trait (flaw?) of mine which my parents have never been able to understand, is how much I adore tackiness. Having opted not to live in the States for many years, they love the grace and charm of Europe. They would happily join my ship on a Mediterranean cruise, but I probably couldn't pay them to take a Caribbean cruise. As for me, the second I saw the port of Belize with all its gaudy, colorful buildings and cheap stalls, my excitement sky rocketed. We decided to take a snorkeling tour, which included a stop at a tiny island called Goff's Caye. During the boat ride to Goff's Caye (named after a British general), we were entertained by a couple of locals who fed us amusing tidbits about Belize (did you know that orange juice can be made of 98% Belize oranges and 2% Florida oranges, and still be marketed as Floridian orange juice?) and flirted with the ladies like dogs in heat. Goff's Caye was simply beautiful, and though there were other people on it, we still felt like we were on our own little private paradise. We spent an hour snorkeling. Unfortunately, the visibility was only about 70%, and we didn't see an abundance of sea life, but I was just grateful that there were no sharks to encounter. I'm suprised that I had as much fun as I did, considering my fear of swimming in the ocean. I'm even looking forward to snorkeling again. After oooohing and aaaaahing at the fish and coral, we went back to Goff's Caye where a man with a single barbeque prepared for us our choice of lobster or chicken. There was also complimentary rum punch flowing, and it was a funny sight watching our guides, who had made sure that we were all safely back on land, now tossing the rum punch back along with shots of the harder stuff.
Next up on our itnerary was the best yet: a day at Chankanaab National Park in Cozumel, Mexico, swimming with dolphins. Within two minutes of arriving at the park, I had a parrot on my head and a gigantic lizard (some sort of dragon??) in my arms. As my friends pulled out their cameras, we were told that it would be $5 per picture. We happily let ourselves be ripped off to document this hilarious encounter. We spent an hour with 2 female dolphins, Alexia, and America (Ryan, my colleague from Indiana, who is constantly proclaiming America as the best country in the world, was ecstatic that he got to kiss America). America's 7 month old calf was being trained in the arena that we were swimming in, so we also got to spend time with the baby, which was a very special treat. As it was the birthday of my colleague, Lucas, our trainer got America and Alexia to sing happy birthday for him, another lovely treat. After saying goodbye to our dolphin friends, we met 3 manatees, who are known as elephants of the sea. They are adorably ugly and gigantic, but the trainer told us that, regardless of their size, manatees are always gentle and never ever threatening. Due to this, they are an endangered species with only about 3000 left in the world. We got to feed one of the manatees, a male named Angel, carrot and papaya. Cue our own lunch time. We found the restaurant, where our waiter said that we could order lunch on the beach. Fantastic! So we ate our lunch in the comfort of big wooden beach chairs under the shade of huge umbrellas made of bark. The beach was nowhere near crowded, and it definitely beat the atmosphere of the over-populated beaches that I have been to in Florida. I took myself exploring and found a "spa," which consisted of an open hut on the edge of a lagoon with 4 massage tables. There are few things I enjoy more than getting a massage, so I treated myself to a 45 minute deep tissue massage. During the massage, I floated away feeling the breeze on my skin and hearing the birds chirping away. It started to rain and the sound of raindrops added to this most magical of experiences. With a couple of hours left before we had to leave, I spent the rest of the day drinking juice out of a coconut and sunbathing. I asked the bar tender to chop the coconut open when I finished the juice so that I could eat the meat, and it was delightful. I didn't want our perfect day at Chankanaab park to end.
Interspersed throughout our Caribbean cruises are port days in Ft. Lauderdale where running errands like depositing money at the bank and picking up bits and bobs at the mall are a real novelty. I cannot believe how good life is right now. Perhaps it is the Universe's gift to me after 2 years of anxiety and struggling in NYC. Would life be this good if I booked a Broadway show? I honestly am not sure how attractive the idea of returning to a city environment sounds right about now. There would be no beaches, no dolphins, no cliffs...
The point is, I am not sure what I want to do after this contract. It has certainly raised alot of questions that I am not yet ready to answer. Having beaches at my fingertips may turn into an addiction. However will I feed that addiction back in New York? Should I move to Hawaii? Spend a year living with my folks in Spain? Sign another ship contract? Return to the city to continue fighting for a place on Broadway? I hold onto the faith that answers will come to me in the way that they have always done: by pursuing the things that make me most happy. I am a most happy (and lucky) daydreamer in paradise.
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