Nothing is impermanent when it is captured electronically. Think about Snapchat with the "dissolving" photos that teens would send one another. Thinking they are gone from permanent record 6 seconds later, many people found out that the nude selfie they snapped was later found somewhere on the web. Safe sexting? There's no such thing. And, so it was, that after we were back on the bus, I pulled up my albums folder on my iPhone to see "Recently Deleted Photos," and there were the pictures I had snapped. Perhaps I could find the woman who demanded I delete my photos in one of the paintings on the wall. Meteora is an incredibly magical place. Six Eastern Orthodox monasteries are built atop these stone pillars that jut upright out of the countryside in central Greece, above the town of Kalambaka. Apparently, caves within the area were inhabited continuously between 50,000 and 5,000 years ago. Monks came to occupy these caverns as early as the 11th century, but monasteries weren't built until the 14th century. According to Wikipedia, "The cave of Theopetra is located 4 kilometers from Kalambaka. Its uniqueness from an archeological perspective is that a single site contains records of two greatly significant cultural transformations: the replacement of Neanderthals by modern humans and later, the transition from hunting-gathering to farming after the end of the last Ice Age." To me, this is remarkable when thinking about the history of humanity on our planet Earth.
We had traveled by bus from Athens to Kalambaka - almost a full day's journey. But well worth the trip. Perhaps most interesting was the enormity of the wine casks that the monks would use for the fermentation of their spirits. Spirits for the spiritual.
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Music blaring over the loudspeaker. Complete disorientation. Where am I? What time is it? I'm in my cabin. It's 7:15 AM. Oh no, I forgot to set an alarm. I jump out of bed to throw back the curtains, on the morning of the last day on the World Odyssey. Have we already docked? Yes, we have. Darn (or perhaps some other profanity uttered at this moment). I missed being up on deck for our last port - San Diego, in the United States of America! How could that have happened? I awoke early for the ship coming into every other port on our trip - Piraeus, Greece; Civitavecchia, Italy; Livorno, Italy; Barcelona, Spain; Casablanca, Morocco; Dakar, Senegal; Salvador de Bahia, Brazil; Port of Spain, Trinidad & Tobago; Callou, Peru; Guayaquil, Ecuador; and Puntarenas, Costa Rica. That's right. 11 different ports in 10 countries. And, of course, I was often up on deck for our departures, too. It's so much fun watching all the activity, especially coming into a port just as the sun is rising, with the pilot jumping from the pilot boat to our ship and the movement of all the lines to get us secured on the dock. Yet, here in San Diego, it was raining. Perhaps no wonder I was sleeping. Tears from the sky, much like the tears in all our eyes for the ending of such an amazing voyage. Being in the tropics for many of our ports, the weather was often warm and sunny. Here it was cold and raining. Welcome back to the United States (I've learned not to say America since there are actually many countries within all the Americas - North, Central, and South - that it's a little bit imperious to say "America" as if the United States is the only American country that matters). Very befitting to miss us docking in the last port. Probably just as well. I didn't want to face the cold hard reality that the trip was over. I might have been an emotional wreck up on deck. Yes, in fact, I know I would have been an emotional wreck. Ever since my second open-heart surgery (another story for another day), I often get teary-eyed at the least possible thing (just like John Boehner). It can be from a sappy, romantic movie; watching two young lovers show their affection for each other; hearing some person's sad news about family; etc. It doesn't take much. Is it just that I'm more compassionate towards humanity these days? Perhaps. I don't know. After such a voyage, I know I am more compassionate about humanity. But the heart is a very strange muscle, and how it may have been affected by my surgery of almost ten years ago is a mystery. As it was, getting off the ship that day was very emotional anyway, and there were many times I just wanted to burst into tears. Just like the last few days before coming in to San Diego. Funny how it started raining a few days out. Just like the cloud of gloom hanging over everybody's emotions on the ship. I decided I might as well throw on some clothes and go for a walk around the ship. I missed breakfast since that was served from 5:30 - 7 AM. It was very early because of docking back in the United States and having to clear customs and all that. And, the crew had to prepare for the public healthcare inspection that would take place. Too bad I had decided to stay up late on our last night with a few other lifelong learners and a resident director in the Fritz Pub until almost 3 in the morning. No wonder I was in a deep sleep when the music came over the loudspeaker. "I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be..." Well, hello. Look. Here's somebody who came to greet the ship in our last port. Supposedly, there is no such bird as a sea gull. This was a new one to me. 56 years on this planet, living close to oceans on both coasts, I never knew that you shouldn't call them sea gulls, just gulls. This gull let me come within about two feet from him, allowing me to snap his photo. It reminded me of the wildlife in the Galapagos - how close we were able to get to sea lions, iguanas, birds (like the blue-footed booby - yes, indeed, one of my new favorite birds for how fun it is just to say the name), all kinds of marine life, etc. I guess this gull was used to cruise boats in the harbor. Perhaps the biggest "hard landing" coming back to the States was departing the ship, leaving behind so many good friendships that had developed over the last 100+ days. It was a bit of mayhem that day. Just waiting for the ship to clear. When word finally came over the loudspeaker, "the ship is now clear," everybody erupted into cheers. Many students had parents waiting at the end of the dock and they were anxious to see them and share all their stories. One of my friends, fellow lifelong learner John Shaw, had purchased "first off the ship" at Auction Night for $135. I was on the seventh deck by the forward stairwell, which had a view down to the fifth floor reception area where the gangway was located. Of course, nobody could get off the ship until John made his way off. An announcement then came over the loudspeaker, "John Shaw, please make your way to the fifth deck to disembark the ship." Crowds of people were huddled around the stairs, probably all the way up to the ninth deck, down to the fifth deck. Then, all of a sudden, a commotion arose with people applauding and cheering and saying John's name. He was slowly making his way down the stairs from above, passing us on the seventh deck, winding his way down to five. All the while, people kept cheering and chanting, "John Shaw, John Shaw, John Shaw." I never saw him again after I got off the ship. He told me later how this was all part of a plan - "make yourself memorable" - and sure enough, the memory of him descending the stairs, wearing a black fedora on his head, with people cheering and calling his name, will forever be seared in my memory. My flight wasn't until 5 PM and one of the other lifelong learners had invited me to have lunch with her at her hotel, where I could store my bags. I couldn't find her after we got of the ship. The process was surprisingly simple - the faculty, staff, and lifelong learners were part of the second group disembarking. Our bags had been sorted and stored in the big warehouse beside the World Odyssey. After I found my two bags, I made my way down to the end of the dock. I passed through security and saw various folks milling about, parents and friends greeting students with signs, and other adult passengers waiting for their rides. I was back on US soil, through customs and off the ship for good all before 11:30 in the morning! That was too fast. After all, I had only awakened 4 hours before. I decided I might as well just head to the airport and see if I could catch an earlier flight. After all, I was anxious to get home to see my loved ones, too. I made my final goodbyes with the few folks around and found a taxi that would take me with all my bags the short distance to the airport. I noticed the driver didn't put on the meter, but that didn't seem to bother me. He was chatting it up - in English! - the whole way to the airport. And when I got there, he helped me get my bags out. I asked him how much, and he said $20. I didn't complain. It had taken us extra time due to traffic, and he was nice. I handed him a $20 bill, figuring the tip was already included since I knew he was slightly overcharging me for the ride as it was. Besides, I didn't want to have to dig out any singles either. Much easier to hand him that one bill. All was good. I was in the country where traveling didn't present the same sort of challenges from the places I had been over the last 104 days. Since this was the "trip of a life-time," I decided early on to do it up right. After all, it was one of my dad's favorite sayings that, "it only costs a little more to travel first class." I found this to be true, booking a ticket about 6 months in advance, only from San Diego to San Francisco. Thus, I had my first-class ticket working for me. I walked up to the counter and talked with the agent about being on the 5 o'clock flight, but wondering if there was a possibility to get me out sooner. Perhaps the look in my eye told her how much I would love to be able to get home earlier. After all, it was December 22nd, and the holidays were upon us soon. She checked, with a lot of typing on the computer, and then told me she was able to get me on the 3:10 flight, and that she could get me on standby for the 1:25 flight, if I didn't mind not being in first class. Wouldn't that be great!?! That was fine by me, if I could get home several hours earlier. I checked my two heavy bags and proceeded through security. Everything seemed so much easier here in the States. After security, I found a sandwich shop, grabbed some lunch and walked out to gate 41 to see if I was lucky enough to have my name called for the 1:25 flight. There was a lot of commotion around the gate, with lots of people milling around. It appeared it would be a full flight. I didn't hold up too much hope. After all, I was already booked on an earlier flight at 3:10. This 1:25 flight was running a little late but then they started boarding everybody. After almost all the passengers had boarded, they made the announcement that all the overhead luggage was full and they would need to check any bags that didn't fit under the seat in front. This was probably just as well since I had a large back-pack. But, I was still waiting to hear if they called my name. I decided to pull my computer out and put it in a smaller bag I had with me, along with other stuff that I didn't want checked, in case I made this flight. As I was doing this, all of the sudden I heard my name called. Sure enough, they had gotten me on. I knew I wasn't going to be in first class but I just hoped I didn't have a middle seat - even though it's a short flight. I took my back-pack off for them to ticket it and then I checked in and proceeded to board the flight. At the end of the gangway were all the other bags that had been gate-checked, ready to be loaded on the plane. I left my bag with them and proceeded to get on the aircraft. As I looked at the rows, I realized I was in the first row behind first class on this A320 plane, which meant I had extra leg room plus there was still the ability to put my bag under the seat in front. And, I had the window seat! As soon as I settled in, I suddenly noticed that my leather wristband was missing. I was sad for a moment as I reflected on all the places this had been with me - starting at Burning Man in Black Rock City, Nevada. From there, it went to all those various countries around the world I had visited. I realized there was no way to get it back. I was on the plane and could not get off. Clearly it had fallen off my wrist when I had either taken my back-pack off, or put it on again... or when I took my back-pack off again. Some lucky soul would find this band on the floor, somewhere either near the gate or on the gangway. They would have no clue where it had been (such as piloting a boat off the island of Capri, as in this picture). It was a relic I had hoped to keep as a memory of my journey. Its absence was not a big deal in the overall scheme of things. Like my children would say, "first world problem." I actually chuckled a little and thought to myself, how appropriate. Welcome back to the States. The trip is now officially over! Except that it wasn't completely. The view out my window was amazing and I spent the whole plane ride looking out the window and reflecting on everything that had happened over the last 3 1/2 months. As we took off, we climbed above the clouds and eventually wound our way up the coast, getting ahead of the storm system that had caused all the rain the last few days. The channel islands were vivid off the coast. As was the basin of Monterey Bay. The Pacific Ocean seemed so calm and serene. I took a couple (more!) pictures. Despite not having my leather wrist-band, I knew nobody could take away all that I had experienced on this voyage. And what a joyous ending to see the coastline of my home state of California with the Pacific Ocean stretching off as far as the eye could see to the horizon.
I'm back. Back in the United States; back in the San Francisco Bay Area. Yes, I have been absent for awhile. And where are all my postings from my great world adventures of the last four months? Well, the Internet connectivity was sorely lacking where I was. So, I took lots of notes, and thousands of photos (and if one photo is worth a thousand words, then I have millions of words to share). No, don't worry, I won't data dump everything here, but perhaps it will be interesting to work backwards in sharing my amazing travel adventures as I methodically reflect upon the places I've been and the people I've met. One of my first reactions of readjusting to being back in the United States, and specifically northern California, was verbally expressed to my son when we were driving home, after he picked me up at the airport, "Ahh, back in the land of Tesla's and Beemers..." Actually, I think I said Porsche's instead of Beemers, but it might as well have been any of the high end automobiles that are so prevalent on the road today in the San Francisco Bay Area - Tesla's, Mercedes Benz's, Audi's, BMW's, Porsche's (literally, one cannot drive more than a few blocks in the neighborhood of Burlingame, California without seeing a Tesla Model S, or now their new Model X - and when the company launches their model 3 in another year or two, well Tesla, or more likely Elon, will snicker at seeing the world abundant in S3X). But kudos to Elon Musk - for all that he has done and all that he plans to do. I for one am a huge fan. After all, my daughter did a summer internship for the company in their R&D group in Palo Alto the summer before last, leveraging her materials science engineering degree along with her FSAE, formula car team project work. I hope Mr. Musk achieves all the success that he envisions for humanity, since he truly is one of the Thomas Edison's of our time (or, perhaps more likely, the Nicolas Tesla of our time). And great things can evolve from the "dents in the universe" that he is making (to borrow a phrase from one of the other great geniuses of our time, Steve Jobs, who left this world way too soon). The concentration of wealth, here in the United States of America, broadly, and in the Bay Area, specifically, is not the "real" world we live in. I for one should know after returning from 3 1/2 months abroad, experiencing the cultures of many third world nations in Africa, Central and South America. I've seen varying statistics about what percent of the world's population lives on less than $2 per day but, even if you believe the lower-end numbers provided by the World Bank that almost 11% live in extreme poverty, as defined by $1.90 or less per day, that percentage is still too high. Growing up, my children would often characterize a challenge one of them might face as, "Well, that's a first world problem." So many things in the day-to-day life of the average US citizen can be characterized this way. We often get caught up in issues that, at the end of the day, are rather trivial, especially when put in the context of something like trying to figure out from where one's next meal is coming. Perhaps the hardest part about adjusting back ("re-entry" as some call it) is wanting to ensure that I will be able to maintain that sense of compassion for humanity and not get caught up in little problems that just don't even matter in the bigger scheme of life. As human beings, we all should be concerned about our fellow human beings meeting their very basic needs on Maslow's hierarchy - i.e. at a minimum, meeting their physiological needs: food, water, shelter, and clothing; in addition to their safety needs: security and safety (and probably in the basic needs category falls healthcare). When one is focused on just attaining those very basic human needs, they become fully present in the moment - mindfulness as some call it. The Semester at Sea voyage provided many opportunities to be mindful. That is another concern of mine being back in the "real" world - losing that sense of being present and focused on the here and now. This brings up another related topic of discussion for me. Happiness. What is it? I asked myself that question a lot as I was going through my divorce. I think I know what the absence of happiness is. But what is true happiness? In a 2010 Princeton Study by Daniel Kahneman and Angus Deaton, they determined that, at the national level, making more than $75,000 per year "won't significantly improve your day-to-day happiness." I'm reminded of a quote I saw recently, "People aren't thankful because they are happy, people are happy because they are thankful." In many places around the world, people are quite content with their lives, despite the fact they have so little. I lived this with some of them, being welcome as a guest in their homes. And, you know what, there was a particular calm serenity to the lives they lived. It pervaded into my mood. I was present with their conditions in life, and yet despite the modest means within which they lived, they had food and water on their table, clothes on their backs, a roof over their heads and they simply seemed content (one might almost say happy). What a lesson in life. Be happy with what you have, especially if your basic needs are met. And be thankful for who you have in your life, such as how grateful I am of having Michelle by my side; she was the one making many sacrifices for me and yet was still so supportive of me pursuing all these travels for the last few months. |
CONRAD B. HERRMANN
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March 2020
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