2 Feb
Late last night we departed Shanghai. I’m on duty and will be sailing to Hong Kong while many of the passengers go overland. Only 109 of us are on board rather than the approximately 700 passengers who usually comprise SAS 2019. The crew is all here too, of course (another approx 170 people) and it feels more relaxed all around (currently half-listening to four crew members joking around with each other in Spanish here in the Lili Marleen - snack bar at the library; the group includes a man from Costa Rica, who has a gruff exterior and a huge heart from Costa Rica who works on board with his adult daughter). The 109 passengers are a mix; a few of us are working and the rest have other reasons for being on this pared-down roster: an RD (resident director), our field director (who is in charge of creating and overseeing all of the field programs in country), our assistant dean and myself are on duty - we met for fancy dinner tonight in the Vier Jahreszeiten (all German names on this Deutshland ship) which was a highly enjoyable change of palate and pace, plus these are lovely and hilarious women; others among our group of 109 are students without the financial resources to travel overland; a handful of non-US-passport-holding students who were not able to get off the ship in China as they were unable to attain visas (this will happen for a handful of students each port — yet another reminder of the privilege of being a US citizen with means); as well as some faculty and life-long learners and students who preferred the quiet and routine of the ship to getting themselves to Hong Kong overland or via plane. Except when I think about the things I’m missing, being on the ship right now is an extroverted introvert’s dream. There hasn’t been a lot of opportunity for time to recharge solo and I’m getting that now. I’ve exercised, gotten my hair cut, prepped my next Preport, watched the horizon at the back of the ship (one place where you can really hear and feel the speed of the ship), napped and had some leisurely meals.
This reduced manifest (with my family among the overland travelers) also explains why I finally have a moment to write. You wouldn’t think that my grueling schedule of one hour of clinic in the morning and one hour of clinic in the afternoon would mean so little downtime, but the days are completely filled. Meetings and more meetings, emails, convoluted loops of communication between SAS staff and ship hierarchy, stairway curbside consults (try though I might to discourage questions about rashes, coughs and all manner of body fluids while in the dining hall and by the ping pong table, it happens a lot). Living on a college campus has been largely positive, though, with evening seminars (usually about the ports we are approaching or about ocean ecology), movies in the movie theater (yes, really! Comfy seats. Holds about 90), student clubs, etc. We also hang out in the Fritz in the evening - a bar on 7 deck, aft, which is off limits to students and dependent children (strictly enforced, it’s awesome) and is a much frequented refuge for faculty and staff. It’s a dangerous forty steps from our cabin and we are often there while our kids are up playing cards or watching TV and after they are asleep.
Our flu outbreak seems to have quieted post-Japan. Fingers crossed on this. The final passenger of either confirmed or strongly suspected influenza A presented on the morning we arrived in Kobe with a fever of 103, myalgias and headache. We gave her acetaminophen, ibuprofen, blotted her with iced towels (so as not to trigger the thermal scanner used by several countries to screen incoming travelers); I walked her through immigration with a mask on (which the entire shipboard community was wearing so it didn’t seem weird) and then walked her right back onto the ship and to her room. Under the guidance of our crew medical team who has done this a few times before, we didn’t exactly cook the books but we didn’t make our entry with a few ill passengers more conspicuous than it needed to be either.
I’m hoping that flu truly has worked it’s way out of the shipboard community before we hit Myanmar or India. I’m not thrilled about being in places where malaria and other febrile illnesses are prevalent and important to identify, with flu also circulating. We do have sufficient testing kits and were able to pick up more osteltamivir in Japan (via lots of maneuvering on the part of ISE / SAS) so that we can more aggressively treat and prophylax to limit spread if new cases arise.
Preport presentations were the part of my job I was least excited about (public speaking to 700 not being my favorite pastime), but I can actually say that I’m enjoying them by now. The evening before each new port the entire shipboard community meets in the Union and has a logistical presentation about the port we are approaching - how immigration will go down, currency exchange rate, safety and security risks, endless reminders about traffic safety and limiting alcohol intake, and a medical briefing (that’s me). Funny slides, a captive audience and the encouragement of my fam and my new friends have transformed the experience for me. It’s a lot like making a toast at a wedding - easy audience. Everyone is focused on waking up in a new port and really just can’t wait to taste the soup dumplings. We’ve gotten into a rhythm where Geoff’s songs follow my presentations and hit the high points (with a melodic hook that reminds you not to pet the monkeys or drink to excess).
Geoff and the kids have gone to Beijing on a SAS field program - I’m assuming they’re there by now, going on the no-news-is-good-news theory. I’m jealous that they will see the Great Wall and Tiananmen square and can’t wait to have them tell me all about it. These kids have been truly all-in with the travel. We have covered 5-10 miles on foot each day in port, trying to soak in as much as possible, urban hiking and using the uber prompt subway systems throughout Kobe, Kyoto and Shanghai. Snacking and shopping along the way is always helpful - searching for treasures in Japanese thrift stores (H scored two jackets, 1000 Yen, trust me it’s a good deal) and keeping our eyes open for novel Rubik’s cubes for A to add to his collection have also added to the experience in each city. They have good instincts and have held their own in deciphering subway maps. A is especially fearless when it comes to asking for help or directions or trying to start a conversation when he spots a kid who looks about his age or really anyone who seems open to bantering with him; for all of his quirks, he’s not a child who will perish from shyness or lack of initiative and I’m grateful for that.
H is taking Intro to Cultural Anthropology on ship (thanks to a weird coincidence where her wonderful current high school history teacher went to grad school with Patti, one of the wonderful profs on board) in addition to the Global Studies class. She is often collecting field notes and her observations help tune me into the ways things are and the ways people act, that make up a culture. We are of course flying through these ports and I’m aware of how superficially we are experiencing them but at the very least seeing that there are different ways to speak, listen, greet, gaze, use the toilet, travel, etc etc is brain-expanding for all of us.
I can see how this journey can be a real pivot for people in their personal and professional lives. (Don’t worry, work buds, I’m coming back to work!! but it’s a great reminder to all of us to make sure that we’re doing what we want to be doing and being who we want to be.)