Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Chapter 5: Marooned!

Arrived at Galveston around 7:00 a.m., but the harbor is fogged in. No admittance!

The ship is hospitable as we wait to gain entry to Galveston. We're out of our rooms, waiting for word in various areas of the ship, waiting to leave for home. It's already noon, and the fog is still thick and impenetrable. Could be quite a while before Galveston opens its harbor to us.

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Did not finally get off the ship until around 6:00 p.m. It's been a long day of doing nothing but sitting around with luggage, waiting for entry to the Port of Galveston.

Finally got back to the hotel after a short ride through the cold rain with a friendly cab driver. The weather is as bad as it was when we arrived a week ago.

Finally put our stuff away and went out for a relaxing dinner at Mario's Italian Restaurant along the sea wall. Good margarita pizza and wine. Ready to drive home tomorrow.




Chapter 4: Catching up

I suspect I will be writing a number of chapters by this same name. I tried to write a blog entry yesterday, after several days of inactivity, but inadvertently erased it all when I close down the program without saving the contents.

Anyway, here I am finally settled in with a cup of coffee at the foot of the grand staircase on the Promenade deck, finally dashing off an entry to summarize what we have been up to lately. Today is the last day of our week long cruise. I have had fun, but also am ready to go home. I have just about exhausted what is of interest to me on this ship and am ready to get back home to make ready for our next great adventure to Germany.

The highlights of this week's cruise have been the three onshore excursions that we took part in. Our first one was to Tulum, a Mayan archeological site on the scenic Mayan riviera near Cozumel. The site consists of an ancient city, dominated by a pyramid that overlooks an emerald blue bay. The pyramid was used as a combination growing calendar for Mayan farmers and a navigational marker for fishermen who approached the dangerous reefs of the bay. Following the light between the columns at the zenith of the structure guided the boats safely into harbor.

The site is fascinating and well preserved, and our guide was knowledgable and quite personable, but the crowds were distracting. Sometimes it was difficult to get a good look at anything. One certainly does not acquire a feeling of a sacred space in such congested environs.

Of course, such is the nature of guided tours, especially those organized by cruise lines that try to pack as many people together and rush them through as quickly as possible so that everyone can return to the ship on time to shuttle off to the next excursion. At least we were able to see the ruins.

Our next excursion was to the island of Roatan, which is part of Honduras. This is a fairly new cruise site, and is not so developed as the Cozumel area. In fact, from the ship before we disembarked, the island looked nearly uninhibited--a lush green tropical land mass surrounded by clear blue waters. Once one begins to travel around the island, it becomes clear that plenty of people live the, but their homes and streets are obscured from a distance by foliage. For this tour, we were joined by a mostly senior group, thus loading and unloading the bus often seemed and endless process. The bus itself was a small church vehicle with narrow passage between seats--not easily navigable to enormous American tourists trying to squeeze though their girths. Our youthful guides were expert and patient.

Roatan is best known for its legacy of pirates. Most of the great privateers and sea bandits of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries hid out there at various times and sometimes hid treasures or wrecked ships. There are twentieth century ship wrecks rusting in the main harbor still. They have been looted for parts by locals and the hulks are too expensive for the poor communities to have hauled off. Now they are tourist sites.

Our next stop was Belize, a mostly English speaking country on the tip of the Yucatan. Because I had read about so many American expatriates buying property there and retiring, I was expecting a more developed area. Belize appeared to me to be the poorest of the three countries we visited. The capital is a ramshackle collection of cinder block houses painted bright colors strung together with a truly frightening looking electrical system. Utility lines look like chaotic spaghetti with plenty of spare cables hanging loose. Our guide told us that the entire country has only six traffic lights, of which five still work. The cars are all used models from the US and Mexico and frequently have no license plates. Driving is a bit of a free for all, and the roads are narrow and often rutted. Our tour bus blew a tire within a few miles of our destination, and the driver drove on the rim until we arrived. From the bus, we boarded a boat and motored down the undeveloped Belize River for a few hours to a remote Mayan city, Lamanai, in the middle of a rainforest preserve.

This city was the highlight of all or our excursions. It is truly a remote site, accessible mainly by river. Other than the ancient ruins, there is only a small museum, which of course we did not have time to visit, and a small gift shop which we were also hurried past. We did, however, spend quite some time guided along the sites, and had the opportunity to scale two of the pyramids. From the summit of the largest, the Belize river was visible in the distance, meandering through the dense rainforest. The steps are quite steep and difficult to walk up normally. I found it easier to clamber up them with hands and feet, like a monkey. My own theory, not supported by any expertise, is that the Mayans may have scaled them in such a way, especially considering that people were smaller than today, with surely a much shorter gait. Today there is a rope line to help tourists scale, which certainly would not have been there originally.

Anyway, of all the excursions, Belize was my favorite. Each was interesting in its own way. Also, my own sense of myself as an American was complex. I constantly wondered how locals viewed us as we passed in our dark-windowed, air conditioned coaches. The question of whether our tourist dollars help locals economically is probably a complex one. Developers tend to build places for tourists, which are sequestered from the locals for customer safety and comfort, and so probably offer limited economic benefit to locals, and may also introduce criminal activity from outside. The tour companies are usually owned by multinationals rather than locals, but they do hire reasonably well educated locals to conduct the tours. Part of me felt like an ugly spoiled American, and yet I enjoyed meeting the guides and other locals involved in showing us a good time. It may not be the perfect way to encounter another culture and is a bit superficial, but given the time constraints of an economical tour, the limited encounter is better than never encountering one another at all.






Saturday, January 5, 2013

Chapter 3: Boarding day

We drove to Galveston yesterday--uneventful, chilly and gray. The Houston traffic was the most exciting part. We started off from San Antonio late, but still managed to arrive before dinner. Unfortunately, Lawna developed a migraine, took some medicine and crashed on the motel room bed while I walked to a next door Denny's and ordered some salads. Once the medicine kicked in, she felt better and we watched a Jane Fonda movie about a conservative, divorced woman going to visit her hippie mother in modern day Woodstock. Her teenage kids discover love, as does she, and her rift between her and her bohemian mother is healed. Cute, predictable storyline with pretty cinematography. Smartly directed by Aussie Bruce Beresford. Perfect for recovering from a migraine. Then we watched a PBS program about the making of Paul Simon's Graceland album, the political controversy at the time and the recent reunion tour with the original musicians. Great music!

I'm up early as usual, tapping out this blog. It's been raining outside, and I'm just waiting for the lobby to open for breakfast. We'll be assembling at the dock around 1:00. It's really cold in Galveston, but the temperature should warm up considerably once we voyage beyond the Gulf.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Chapter 2: Coming out from the cold

Tomorrow we leave for Galveston where we will spend one night and then depart for the Caribbean on the Crown Princess. I have been checking my weather apps. Here in South Texas we are having unseasonably cold weather. It may even snow tomorrow, so we may have an icy drive--something we aren't used to in this part of the country. This morning I went to UTSA to close out and finish "termination" procedures. That sounds bad! Sleet fell against my windshield as I drove. The light morning breeze was icy cold.

I know from checking weather reports that the Caribbean will be much more temperate, in the eighties most of the time. Galveston, however, will be colder than we have ever experienced it before. I'm packing an odd assortment of clothes, starting off in a warm winter jacket and probably some gloves, and then transitioning in a single day to shorts and sandals. Of course, there is plenty to do inside the climate controlled ship. After all, it is a small city. I prefer the open decks and the sea breezes. It's quieter outside and feels like a real voyage. Not so Vegas--the aspect of a cruise that has never appealed to me.

Lawna called and is on her way home from work. I'm pretty well packed and ready to take off tomorrow. She'll need to catch up tonight. Early tomorrow, we'll load up my Fit and take off to Galveston, one of our favorite Texas towns. We'll spend one day there, tooling around the Strand in the cold, and then walk up the gangplank, just like in "Titanic" (maybe not the best comparison). Actually, the modern gangplanks are a bit more mechanized and elaborate, as I recall from our last cruise, and entry includes a Homeland Security walk through like at the airport.

I don't mind the cold that much. We will have more of it in Germany. Still, I'm looking forward to some tropical warmth. It will be a lot of fun.

Friday, December 28, 2012

Chapter 1: Starting Out

Things have suddenly all changed for us. Our sons are pretty much grown up, one in grad school at Columbia and the other at the University of Texas at San Antonio with one more year to go. In some ways their upbringing seems to have taken no time at all--a brief episode in my marriage to Lawna--and then in other ways their childhoods seem to have been a long time ago. Time plays trick on our perceptions, or maybe it's the other way around. I guess really it's our perceptions that govern the length of time. Anyway, that's where Lawna and I have arrived: the beginnings of the empty nest, a combination of some new found  loneliness and liberation. It's a bittersweet mix, sweetened particularly with the awareness that Michael and Brian have grown to be fine men.

Added to that are the animals: two senior dogs that have both grown old as the two boys have grown up. A human childhood is a lifetime for a dog. They're both moving slowly with considerably diminished alertness, napping even more than before. Then there's the young cat that Michael left with us when he couldn't keep him at Columbia. I had never lived with a cat before. I just knew that they made my eyes itch. I tried to be firm and put my foot down. No cat! The cat knew who he needed to charm, and now he comes to me for petting. He's a cool cat, definitely. Now I finally understand the cat mystique. He's indeed a regal, furry prince. A little fat, too.Petting him does make my eyes itch, but I just wash my hands after touching him, and then I'm usually OK. He has ingratiated himself into the family, up onto the warm lap of grandpa: me.

But, now for the real change, which is what this blog is all about. Lawna has been working as a federal civil servant for the thirty years we've been married, and I have been a community college and university English teacher most of that time. We have resided in two houses in San Antonio, within a few miles of one another. Both of our sets of parents survive here in town. We're pretty rooted, stable and even sometimes a little boring, at least to an old military brat like me. Now the military has stepped back in. Lawna is being sent to work in  Germany for three years. Of course, that means me too.

So that opens this blog--a grand adventure. There's a lot I could blather about in this blog. I'm usually not at a loss of things to write once I get started, but my focus here will be on the travel and the cultural transitions ahead. I'm 100% excited--I have not lived outside the US since I was a child. I was an Air Force child, and my family was stationed in Japan and Hawaii during formative years of my life. I have long had the itch to live abroad. Lawna's excitement is more measured. She is a native San Antonio girl who has lived nowhere else, and her family roots go back to the founding of the city. My parents, on the other hand, are from Michigan. I have lived in San Antonio most of my life, but I don't feel that rooted. I love leaving town. I have always wanted to live in Germany. Now it is happening.

But, before heading out to Europe, Lawna and I already have a Caribbean cruise scheduled for a week from now. That experience will be the subject of the first part of this blog. We planned this cruise before we knew about my wife's new job. Suddenly it seems anti-climactic, and actually a distraction because we have a lot of preparations to make for our big move. But, I'm sure the cruise will be fun once we embark from Galveston. To two Texas homebodies, this is an embarrassment of riches.

Over the next weeks and months, dear reader, I will keep you posted.

Auf wiedersehen!