Possibly my favorite quote so far by a kid running down the hall screaming and laughing is “I’M SCREAMIIIIING!”
When the kids run down the hallway, which seriously, is all the time, usually someone gets annoyed. Castmate and I were watching season one of the Sopranos all day because heh, that’s what you do. A gaggle of kids were running down the hallway, obviously, and fell into our door or pounded on it or something. Sam (castmate) got furious and opened the door to shut them up. Apparently an older woman was out in the hallway, who had just yelled at them. She said she told them they better stop running down the hallway (never going to happen) or she’d call security. She told Sam, “you know what they said to me? ‘Eat me.’ Can you believe it? ‘Eat me.’”
Another delightful moment today happened when I walked up to the 12th floor from the 10th floor. We have elevators that are creative about when they will stop on your floor or when they will open or whether or not you will wait 5 minutes for an elevator. The elevator didn’t stop for this woman who then said “ugh, forget it!” and we both walked up the stairs. She got to the top and said “Well. Heart attack city.” Please note it was two flights of stairs.
I pressed the up button on an elevator, but got confused because my brain has gotten so tiny, and got out, then pressed the up button again. As soon as I got out and the door was shutting, the rather husky 12 year old “ripped a fart” as I believe he would say it. The door opened again. I took the stairs.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Senor Frogs, Families, Key Cards
We discussed NOT going to Senor Frog’s tonight, we did discuss it. But then once we got there, the whole world was there soooo, voila, we all stayed. Anyway. A particular highlight was the chant of “this is alcohol nation” and a female only conga line that featured: one fratty tall guy and one woman and her toddler. The woman with her toddler danced like she did not have a 1.something year old girl on her hip. Your personality is completely formed at 2, right? Well. This little girl will forever love frat parties, cruise ships, and senor frog’s. The mom was on a trip with her girlfriends, clearly, and particularly hilarious was when they put the toddler on the dance floor and danced around her. Pretty nice.
I entered the ship this evening and witnessed some young gentlemen, probably 11/12-ish, possibly 13, hanging out on the stairs, because all teenagers hang out on the stairs. This particular gentleman said “how YOU doin’” to a probably 14 year old girl in a short skirt and shirt with a slit back, who turned around and looked at him like he was a creepy freak.
Also of note was a family with 2 kids, probably 5 and 7, in Starbucks. The parents probably tired, tried to relax and zone out, which meant they had to quasi-ignore their children who spoke several octaves higher than charted music and did several laps starting at the table, running away from it, then running back. The young boy, probably 5, had very very recently discovered kung fu, particularly the kicks, which he did all down the middle of starbucks, then discovered what it was to slam the back of everyone’s chair with his fist, which he found rather fun. Not as fun as the kicks, though, let’s remember, which he then did into his dad, who was definitely actually hurt, while the kid laughed and clapped and didn’t take the “next time we will go into the naughty corner” very seriously.
I also have a new room in the middle of the 10th deck, which is in the middle of a hallway. There must be something about these rooms, or this stretch of hallway/room combination or something, that makes running down it while laughing/screaming IRRESISTABLE. If you are 13 or below, it is a must. They sound like giggling elephants. Today featured the very loud sound of broken glass. I think I share a wall with a room full of kids. If you do the beds right, you can get about 5 kids, completely jammed in there. Obviously, it is incredibly fun to hit each other and then scream and hit someone else and then scream. When they are awake, this is what I hear. I do remember this being incredibly fun.
Also, since cruise ships are incredibly ideal for large families, we get some sociological dreams on board. This week we have a few extended Chinese families and a few extended Indian families. This means that there is someone giving stern directions that people will probably ignore, which is probably universal. I witnessed one 40-ish Indian gentlemen standing in the middle of a bunch of kids and older people holding up his keycard and saying “IF YOU LOSE THIS. YOU WILL NOT. GET BACK ON THE SHIP. DO NOT LOSE THIS.” And the rest of the family kinda milling around and not really listening.
I entered the ship this evening and witnessed some young gentlemen, probably 11/12-ish, possibly 13, hanging out on the stairs, because all teenagers hang out on the stairs. This particular gentleman said “how YOU doin’” to a probably 14 year old girl in a short skirt and shirt with a slit back, who turned around and looked at him like he was a creepy freak.
Also of note was a family with 2 kids, probably 5 and 7, in Starbucks. The parents probably tired, tried to relax and zone out, which meant they had to quasi-ignore their children who spoke several octaves higher than charted music and did several laps starting at the table, running away from it, then running back. The young boy, probably 5, had very very recently discovered kung fu, particularly the kicks, which he did all down the middle of starbucks, then discovered what it was to slam the back of everyone’s chair with his fist, which he found rather fun. Not as fun as the kicks, though, let’s remember, which he then did into his dad, who was definitely actually hurt, while the kid laughed and clapped and didn’t take the “next time we will go into the naughty corner” very seriously.
I also have a new room in the middle of the 10th deck, which is in the middle of a hallway. There must be something about these rooms, or this stretch of hallway/room combination or something, that makes running down it while laughing/screaming IRRESISTABLE. If you are 13 or below, it is a must. They sound like giggling elephants. Today featured the very loud sound of broken glass. I think I share a wall with a room full of kids. If you do the beds right, you can get about 5 kids, completely jammed in there. Obviously, it is incredibly fun to hit each other and then scream and hit someone else and then scream. When they are awake, this is what I hear. I do remember this being incredibly fun.
Also, since cruise ships are incredibly ideal for large families, we get some sociological dreams on board. This week we have a few extended Chinese families and a few extended Indian families. This means that there is someone giving stern directions that people will probably ignore, which is probably universal. I witnessed one 40-ish Indian gentlemen standing in the middle of a bunch of kids and older people holding up his keycard and saying “IF YOU LOSE THIS. YOU WILL NOT. GET BACK ON THE SHIP. DO NOT LOSE THIS.” And the rest of the family kinda milling around and not really listening.
Tropical Storms
Last cruise was heavily inspired by Tropical Storm Fay. The storm was on the east coast of Florida, but threw enough weather to close down one of the ports. Specifically, Port Canaveral. This means the passengers couldn’t take their kids to Disney World or Universal or any of those places, and the crew couldn’t go to the mall. Our cast felt very dramatic about it, because we couldn’t shop, or get haircuts, or sit in the internet café. There was a lot of “I’m really pissed about Port Canaveral” on our part. This means the passengers went from a 2 sea day, 3 port day cruise, to a 3 sea day, 2 port day cruise.
On the way back to New York, we hit the remnants of the storm. Which was going to be, according to the cruise director, “the worst storm in the past year.” Which we were NOT to tell the passengers. Which means there were vomit bags by the elevator, and between chairs and anywhere strategic. We did our incredibly dirty improv show sliding all over the stage. My roommate couldn’t sleep to the point that she found herself sleep walking and talking to the bathroom door. At the end of the cruise, someone pulled aside said roommate and said “oh thank you so much, you were the highlight on just a horrible cruise.”
Someone has a fluorescent pink luggage tag that says “You’d look bad in these clothes.” A teenaged New Jersey gentleman walked by and said “did you see this? You’d look bad in these clothes. Now, that’s funny.” And then lost his mind laughing.
Also, the way they have taught the restaurant staff to sing “happy birthday” begins with the last line and then circles back on itself. So like: “Haaappy Birrrthdaaay tooooo yooooou. Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you” etc. Delight.
On the way back to New York, we hit the remnants of the storm. Which was going to be, according to the cruise director, “the worst storm in the past year.” Which we were NOT to tell the passengers. Which means there were vomit bags by the elevator, and between chairs and anywhere strategic. We did our incredibly dirty improv show sliding all over the stage. My roommate couldn’t sleep to the point that she found herself sleep walking and talking to the bathroom door. At the end of the cruise, someone pulled aside said roommate and said “oh thank you so much, you were the highlight on just a horrible cruise.”
Someone has a fluorescent pink luggage tag that says “You’d look bad in these clothes.” A teenaged New Jersey gentleman walked by and said “did you see this? You’d look bad in these clothes. Now, that’s funny.” And then lost his mind laughing.
Also, the way they have taught the restaurant staff to sing “happy birthday” begins with the last line and then circles back on itself. So like: “Haaappy Birrrthdaaay tooooo yooooou. Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you” etc. Delight.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Bahamas, Scooters, Life Retention
Things to be Honest About if you are going to Rent a Scooter in the Bahamas:
1. Are you wearing sandals.
2. When you say sandals, are they so loose that at this point they are more like flip flops.
3. How familiar are you with driving on the left.
4. When you say you have “ridden a scooter” are you talking about a thing with an electric motor that doesn’t go over 25 mph.
5. When you say you have “ridden a scooter” do you also mean “12 years ago.”
6. Are you wearing shorts.
7. Do you actually not know any geography or have any idea where to drive said scooter around the island.
8. Is one of your irrational fears that a moving vehicle will run over your head and crush it.
I pigheadedly decided to rent scooters in Nassau, because they look so fun. People were irritating and dragging their feet about going. Then my irritating roommate said it was very scary and a guy in her last cast fell off and got really hurt, which was irritating. Then finally castmate Sam and youth counselor Alex agreed to do this, but we missed our meeting point at a Starbuck’s so I said “oh forget it” because we couldn’t get the full 3 hours that we had planned to rent them. Then they said “well, we can do an hour” and I said fine, I guess, okay.
Alex, in her position as youth counselor, is technically not allowed to rent scooters, zip line, parasail and others, because they are too risky and she could die. While we were waiting in line to rent the scooters, the firefighter and a cruise consultant approached and said we were crazy and it looked fun although they too could not rent scooters because they were not allowed because they could die. The firefighter is probably 300 lbs. and South African and fights fires as his job. I tell jokes and get sunburns. Anyway.
A gang of 3 New Jersey gentlemen from the ship drove up, returning their scooters. They were whooping and hollering and said “yeah bitches!” and other poems, which I didn’t understand because scooters are supposed to be a tiiiiny bit dull, I mean they are “scooters.”
One of the gentlemen employed by the scooter rental place was carefully wiping at two WOUNDS on his forearm, one about 4 inches x 2 inches, one about the size if an egg. They were clearly very painful, but I ignored them because I had just signed a waiver (which is hilarious because why do that because it’s a foreign country and we know that everyplace is a deathtrap). We took 3 scooters and had to take a short test drive. These scooters are so powerful that the muffler is chrome and big and looks like it could go on a motorcycle. And the scooters have very impressive pickup. Sam was missing one rearview mirror, I could not aim mine, so they were a waste. Alex (who is a very pretty blonde tall Canadian—this becomes important) tried her test drive and almost hit a bus. Thus, a guy from the rental place—the son of the owner—apparently said something or other because for whatever reason, he was driving and Alex was riding on the back. They told me to lead the way and also that I had to stay on the left because that’s where they drive which I FORGOT ABOUT.
Also, let’s remember that Nassau is NOT LOS ANGELES or the US and that the roads are crappy in the city center. The son of the owner passed us and lead the way. There is a way you drive on a scooter when you have lived some where and know it well and are trying to impress a blonde who is holding on to you and probably giggling. This means we: passed a bus. We: drove between cars and went to the front of the line in the intersections. We: took some chances and some very fast turns. We: were not overly explained where we were going, i.e. I had no idea, but I found out it was a scenic tour but I was so terrified that I can only tell you about patches of the road. A car drove very close to Sam and almost hit him. We drove over a lot of gravel, which made me think to myself “there’s something about gravel you’re supposed to know” and that I think that is what has made my brother fall over and bleed through his kakhis once or twice. If I were to employ one phrase to describe driving through downtown Nassau on a scooter—and people like to honk in Nassau, and drive fast, and be busses, and are used to scooters so don’t give them like…a lot of space, also we had no turn signals—I would say “shitting my pants.” After 15 minutes, I turned 45.
Finally we got to a road by a bay, which was beautiful and the road didn’t have a pothole or a grate every 4 feet so I could relax and be amazed that I was alive. Alex was having the time of her life, waving around, taking pictures, engaging in “look no hands” behavior. She yelled to see if we wanted to stop for a drink, by which I thought she meant marguerita, to which I said “NO! NO NO NO!” and after a bit we made a right turn in the middle of a street with no light and logically, went to KFC. There I sampled Junkanoo punch (which is a Bahamas pineapple soda—very incredibly sweet) and Alex said how relaxing and fun the ride was and what a great tour she got and I talked about not dying.
After that, the ride was fun and short. Possibly because Sam went behind me, so if I fell off and my head was crushed, he would at least know to tell the guide to pause his date.
After the ride, and the guide said to us “don’t forget to give your guide a good tip” which was bold, we walked back to the ship. Alex jumped around and was ready to go out for the night and kept saying “hurry up,” Sam and I walked much more soberly. He said “I’m so glad I wore gym shoes.”
Other good stories:
Someone secretly got pregnant and carried the baby to term and DELIVERED the baby on the ship. She and baby were promptly left in Acapulco.
1. Are you wearing sandals.
2. When you say sandals, are they so loose that at this point they are more like flip flops.
3. How familiar are you with driving on the left.
4. When you say you have “ridden a scooter” are you talking about a thing with an electric motor that doesn’t go over 25 mph.
5. When you say you have “ridden a scooter” do you also mean “12 years ago.”
6. Are you wearing shorts.
7. Do you actually not know any geography or have any idea where to drive said scooter around the island.
8. Is one of your irrational fears that a moving vehicle will run over your head and crush it.
I pigheadedly decided to rent scooters in Nassau, because they look so fun. People were irritating and dragging their feet about going. Then my irritating roommate said it was very scary and a guy in her last cast fell off and got really hurt, which was irritating. Then finally castmate Sam and youth counselor Alex agreed to do this, but we missed our meeting point at a Starbuck’s so I said “oh forget it” because we couldn’t get the full 3 hours that we had planned to rent them. Then they said “well, we can do an hour” and I said fine, I guess, okay.
Alex, in her position as youth counselor, is technically not allowed to rent scooters, zip line, parasail and others, because they are too risky and she could die. While we were waiting in line to rent the scooters, the firefighter and a cruise consultant approached and said we were crazy and it looked fun although they too could not rent scooters because they were not allowed because they could die. The firefighter is probably 300 lbs. and South African and fights fires as his job. I tell jokes and get sunburns. Anyway.
A gang of 3 New Jersey gentlemen from the ship drove up, returning their scooters. They were whooping and hollering and said “yeah bitches!” and other poems, which I didn’t understand because scooters are supposed to be a tiiiiny bit dull, I mean they are “scooters.”
One of the gentlemen employed by the scooter rental place was carefully wiping at two WOUNDS on his forearm, one about 4 inches x 2 inches, one about the size if an egg. They were clearly very painful, but I ignored them because I had just signed a waiver (which is hilarious because why do that because it’s a foreign country and we know that everyplace is a deathtrap). We took 3 scooters and had to take a short test drive. These scooters are so powerful that the muffler is chrome and big and looks like it could go on a motorcycle. And the scooters have very impressive pickup. Sam was missing one rearview mirror, I could not aim mine, so they were a waste. Alex (who is a very pretty blonde tall Canadian—this becomes important) tried her test drive and almost hit a bus. Thus, a guy from the rental place—the son of the owner—apparently said something or other because for whatever reason, he was driving and Alex was riding on the back. They told me to lead the way and also that I had to stay on the left because that’s where they drive which I FORGOT ABOUT.
Also, let’s remember that Nassau is NOT LOS ANGELES or the US and that the roads are crappy in the city center. The son of the owner passed us and lead the way. There is a way you drive on a scooter when you have lived some where and know it well and are trying to impress a blonde who is holding on to you and probably giggling. This means we: passed a bus. We: drove between cars and went to the front of the line in the intersections. We: took some chances and some very fast turns. We: were not overly explained where we were going, i.e. I had no idea, but I found out it was a scenic tour but I was so terrified that I can only tell you about patches of the road. A car drove very close to Sam and almost hit him. We drove over a lot of gravel, which made me think to myself “there’s something about gravel you’re supposed to know” and that I think that is what has made my brother fall over and bleed through his kakhis once or twice. If I were to employ one phrase to describe driving through downtown Nassau on a scooter—and people like to honk in Nassau, and drive fast, and be busses, and are used to scooters so don’t give them like…a lot of space, also we had no turn signals—I would say “shitting my pants.” After 15 minutes, I turned 45.
Finally we got to a road by a bay, which was beautiful and the road didn’t have a pothole or a grate every 4 feet so I could relax and be amazed that I was alive. Alex was having the time of her life, waving around, taking pictures, engaging in “look no hands” behavior. She yelled to see if we wanted to stop for a drink, by which I thought she meant marguerita, to which I said “NO! NO NO NO!” and after a bit we made a right turn in the middle of a street with no light and logically, went to KFC. There I sampled Junkanoo punch (which is a Bahamas pineapple soda—very incredibly sweet) and Alex said how relaxing and fun the ride was and what a great tour she got and I talked about not dying.
After that, the ride was fun and short. Possibly because Sam went behind me, so if I fell off and my head was crushed, he would at least know to tell the guide to pause his date.
After the ride, and the guide said to us “don’t forget to give your guide a good tip” which was bold, we walked back to the ship. Alex jumped around and was ready to go out for the night and kept saying “hurry up,” Sam and I walked much more soberly. He said “I’m so glad I wore gym shoes.”
Other good stories:
Someone secretly got pregnant and carried the baby to term and DELIVERED the baby on the ship. She and baby were promptly left in Acapulco.
Monday, August 18, 2008
imade again, his last!
Oh my goodness my room steward!
Imade leaves today, he is going off to see his wife and brand new son, which he is very happy about. We had fun chatting again and he said, very reverently, “I hope that you find and live with your lovely one and that you have big family and much happiness.” It would be a lie to say I did not tear up. Unfortunately, he then added darkly “although…so much is unexpected, so...” He said I would find my lovely one because I have so many fans because I work in the theatre. He usually has 2 beers post work and now was on beer number 5, so we can cut him a break. Although he said pretty classic things like he told me that this week he has a guest who is a very large, very big&tall man who…wets his bed every night and blames it on his son. Every day “we have to change the mattress! We are running out of mattresses!” To give you an idea of their workload, they do 32 rooms in 3 hours. So about 6 minutes a room, unless someone is peeing once per night in bed—“that add 20 minutes to change mattress! I get so pissed off Megan!”
He told me how much he is excited to see his wife and his son and that he hopes I will be happy because I have good energy and must keep my spirits up. I told him he must keep his up also and he is a good one, to which he informed me “most people are liars” which was upsetting and “I do not have a girlfriend on the ship” and explained how difficult it is not to have a girlfriend, but he didn’t think he could because his wife is pregnant at home, but he hates talking to girls in the crew mess when they ask him “are you married?” “and I say…ooooh! Yes! I am married!” and then he has no girlfriend, but it is okay because he loves his wife so much although who knows, people can change, “just like that,” which was very upsetting. Then he said his wife asked “do you have girlfriend!” and he said no and she said “you can have girlfriend, just don’t bring her home” which was also confusing and upsetting. He said “I will send you puppet!” and I gave him my address, which I hope is okay considering when I said “you’re so nice,” he said “you barely know me!” although I do know that he was a drug runner for the Chinese and thinks everyone lies and likes his wife because she is simple and honest and makes him “be honest too.” (pronounce the h). So hopefully he is not a liar or confusing, even though he and the other room steward told my roommate and I we looked “very sexy” kinda juuuust too much, like after working out, etc. and would ask us how many hours we work, which I would not tell him. Otherwise, my parents are going to get a bomb in the mail and he is going to sell my information to the Indonesian mob. So.
His replacement is “a gay from the Phillipines. He is short and very round and you have to call him ‘Babes.’” Even though his real name is like Daniel or something. So that should be fun.
I said “you work hard” to which he said, immediately with no pause: “Hardly Working!” like he is not a guy from Bali in a uniform post-5 beers, but a guy in a Dilbert cartoon.
Also, people from Bali roll their r’s. Very interesting.
Imade leaves today, he is going off to see his wife and brand new son, which he is very happy about. We had fun chatting again and he said, very reverently, “I hope that you find and live with your lovely one and that you have big family and much happiness.” It would be a lie to say I did not tear up. Unfortunately, he then added darkly “although…so much is unexpected, so...” He said I would find my lovely one because I have so many fans because I work in the theatre. He usually has 2 beers post work and now was on beer number 5, so we can cut him a break. Although he said pretty classic things like he told me that this week he has a guest who is a very large, very big&tall man who…wets his bed every night and blames it on his son. Every day “we have to change the mattress! We are running out of mattresses!” To give you an idea of their workload, they do 32 rooms in 3 hours. So about 6 minutes a room, unless someone is peeing once per night in bed—“that add 20 minutes to change mattress! I get so pissed off Megan!”
He told me how much he is excited to see his wife and his son and that he hopes I will be happy because I have good energy and must keep my spirits up. I told him he must keep his up also and he is a good one, to which he informed me “most people are liars” which was upsetting and “I do not have a girlfriend on the ship” and explained how difficult it is not to have a girlfriend, but he didn’t think he could because his wife is pregnant at home, but he hates talking to girls in the crew mess when they ask him “are you married?” “and I say…ooooh! Yes! I am married!” and then he has no girlfriend, but it is okay because he loves his wife so much although who knows, people can change, “just like that,” which was very upsetting. Then he said his wife asked “do you have girlfriend!” and he said no and she said “you can have girlfriend, just don’t bring her home” which was also confusing and upsetting. He said “I will send you puppet!” and I gave him my address, which I hope is okay considering when I said “you’re so nice,” he said “you barely know me!” although I do know that he was a drug runner for the Chinese and thinks everyone lies and likes his wife because she is simple and honest and makes him “be honest too.” (pronounce the h). So hopefully he is not a liar or confusing, even though he and the other room steward told my roommate and I we looked “very sexy” kinda juuuust too much, like after working out, etc. and would ask us how many hours we work, which I would not tell him. Otherwise, my parents are going to get a bomb in the mail and he is going to sell my information to the Indonesian mob. So.
His replacement is “a gay from the Phillipines. He is short and very round and you have to call him ‘Babes.’” Even though his real name is like Daniel or something. So that should be fun.
I said “you work hard” to which he said, immediately with no pause: “Hardly Working!” like he is not a guy from Bali in a uniform post-5 beers, but a guy in a Dilbert cartoon.
Also, people from Bali roll their r’s. Very interesting.
More Imade
a) I will not pretend to know what it is to be from Bali
b) I do not know anything about Bali. I only know about how delightful it is to tell dramatic stories, so some of the following may be someone else’s desire to tell dramatic stories. However.
I talked to my Balinese room steward cronie again who told me some more stories from his life.
Before that, I talked to a guy who has worked since 1999 on cruise ships. He is South African and good looking in a are-you-a-roman-soldier-talk-to-me-about-your-nose way. I had him record something for a radio piece I’m doing, since some friends and I went to Senor Frogs beforehand and had $14 drinks (that was a discount) that came in a glass that said “YARD!” down the side but was probably like 2.2 feet. Anyway, I was feeling brave. After chatting with this guy for a moment, he told me he used his DJ voice on the recording—because he is a DJ in South Africa. He said he gave a shout out to his brother in Colorado. I said “why do you have a brother in Colorado” and he informed me that he “married a bitch-ass American.” Anyway. So I cannot fully express the very rare occurrence of the attractive male on a ship—the dancers are mostly gay and blah blah—anyway, I talked to this one. I asked him where he was a DJ, thinking he would say “Johannesburg” because where else is there (ignorant) but he said “oh theatres. I did a lot of work in theatres. A lot of drag appearances. I did an all drag show of Cinderella.” I asked him which part he played, he said “the ugly stepsister and the other one—oh it was so funny—was this short, very short, round bleck guy.” Then he said he toured in Grease, as the guy who has the cigarette behind his ear. Now he is on the ships. Sure.
My Balinese friend told me stories that made me very confused. He told me that it is a common Indonesian ritual for people to eat a glass bottle, just like it is candy. And the demon inside the Indonesian will eat the glass for them (I’m sure there’s some cleansing part to this, but we were having language barriers and deafening Sean Paul in the background). Anyway, this is so common apparently that it has happened on the ship. And the guy who ate the glass bottle went to the doctor and had an x-ray and they didn’t find anything. My cronie told me Bali would make me be very confused, that they also had a ritual where people went into a trance and were unable to be stabbed by knives, even though the knives cut through other things.
He also told me that for a year and a half he was a driver. “I drive Mercedes Benz! It was 2 hours from my village!” I asked why he stopped, and it turns out the police caught him. I asked why, he said he was a driver for some Chinese people who had him deliver luggage to some of the hotels. The police caught him and opened the suit cases, one was filled with marijuana, the other: cocaine. The police said “how old are you?” and he said “19” and he told me “you see, I looked normal! Very stupid! So they picked me because the Chinese man was very smart!” So they put him in jail for a 2 days, and the Chinese man got him the best lawyer he knew. Imade, my friend, said “one hour in jail is like one day Megan!” We had a language barrier again and somehow got to the point that Imade told me it was the biggest case in 1995 and all over Indonesia’s version of CNN. He said he didn’t tell his father he was working for the Chinese guy and that the village found out from seeing his face in the paper, because he pushed away the reporters. He said he wanted to take care of his father, who is a rice farmer (I mean?). He said he quit driving after going to jail but then…started again and also worked in an Italian restaurant so he loves spaghetti carbonera and some other Italian dishes. Also, he collects stamps, although he told me he has plenty plenty from America so, seriously, no thanks for any more.
He wants me to come to his Island, even though the traffic is very bad. Also, he said the kids in his village will say “hello tourist!” even though they do the same thing in the cities, those city kids want something, the village kids do not. “Maybe one day you come on honeymoon!”
They do ceremonies for pregnant women at 7 months, then 3 months after the baby is born, like a baptism, then 6 months after the baby is born, “like a birthday” and then he got frustrated and said “our calendar is not the same as yours! It is different! It is very complicated!”
b) I do not know anything about Bali. I only know about how delightful it is to tell dramatic stories, so some of the following may be someone else’s desire to tell dramatic stories. However.
I talked to my Balinese room steward cronie again who told me some more stories from his life.
Before that, I talked to a guy who has worked since 1999 on cruise ships. He is South African and good looking in a are-you-a-roman-soldier-talk-to-me-about-your-nose way. I had him record something for a radio piece I’m doing, since some friends and I went to Senor Frogs beforehand and had $14 drinks (that was a discount) that came in a glass that said “YARD!” down the side but was probably like 2.2 feet. Anyway, I was feeling brave. After chatting with this guy for a moment, he told me he used his DJ voice on the recording—because he is a DJ in South Africa. He said he gave a shout out to his brother in Colorado. I said “why do you have a brother in Colorado” and he informed me that he “married a bitch-ass American.” Anyway. So I cannot fully express the very rare occurrence of the attractive male on a ship—the dancers are mostly gay and blah blah—anyway, I talked to this one. I asked him where he was a DJ, thinking he would say “Johannesburg” because where else is there (ignorant) but he said “oh theatres. I did a lot of work in theatres. A lot of drag appearances. I did an all drag show of Cinderella.” I asked him which part he played, he said “the ugly stepsister and the other one—oh it was so funny—was this short, very short, round bleck guy.” Then he said he toured in Grease, as the guy who has the cigarette behind his ear. Now he is on the ships. Sure.
My Balinese friend told me stories that made me very confused. He told me that it is a common Indonesian ritual for people to eat a glass bottle, just like it is candy. And the demon inside the Indonesian will eat the glass for them (I’m sure there’s some cleansing part to this, but we were having language barriers and deafening Sean Paul in the background). Anyway, this is so common apparently that it has happened on the ship. And the guy who ate the glass bottle went to the doctor and had an x-ray and they didn’t find anything. My cronie told me Bali would make me be very confused, that they also had a ritual where people went into a trance and were unable to be stabbed by knives, even though the knives cut through other things.
He also told me that for a year and a half he was a driver. “I drive Mercedes Benz! It was 2 hours from my village!” I asked why he stopped, and it turns out the police caught him. I asked why, he said he was a driver for some Chinese people who had him deliver luggage to some of the hotels. The police caught him and opened the suit cases, one was filled with marijuana, the other: cocaine. The police said “how old are you?” and he said “19” and he told me “you see, I looked normal! Very stupid! So they picked me because the Chinese man was very smart!” So they put him in jail for a 2 days, and the Chinese man got him the best lawyer he knew. Imade, my friend, said “one hour in jail is like one day Megan!” We had a language barrier again and somehow got to the point that Imade told me it was the biggest case in 1995 and all over Indonesia’s version of CNN. He said he didn’t tell his father he was working for the Chinese guy and that the village found out from seeing his face in the paper, because he pushed away the reporters. He said he wanted to take care of his father, who is a rice farmer (I mean?). He said he quit driving after going to jail but then…started again and also worked in an Italian restaurant so he loves spaghetti carbonera and some other Italian dishes. Also, he collects stamps, although he told me he has plenty plenty from America so, seriously, no thanks for any more.
He wants me to come to his Island, even though the traffic is very bad. Also, he said the kids in his village will say “hello tourist!” even though they do the same thing in the cities, those city kids want something, the village kids do not. “Maybe one day you come on honeymoon!”
They do ceremonies for pregnant women at 7 months, then 3 months after the baby is born, like a baptism, then 6 months after the baby is born, “like a birthday” and then he got frustrated and said “our calendar is not the same as yours! It is different! It is very complicated!”
San Juan!
First of all, if you really want to get our cast going, if you want us to REALLY get opinionated and hot under the collar and fight TO THE DEATH about what we think, here are the subjects: cookies (esp. chocolate chip cookies), House (the show), particularly episode 2 of the second season which was terrible and focused WAY too much on Cutty, and Weeds. House and Weeds are broadcast on our crew only channels. This is some of our only input. One of the cast members manages to sleep something like 18 hours a day.
We went to have traditional Puerto Rican food in San Juan. We had Mofongo, which comes in what looks like a banister top—wooden and kind of like a weird bowl/huge mug with no handle. Taller than it is wide. We were told we would wait for 15 minutes, but waited for an hour, which made me think about Mexico and make sweeping generalizations about Latin culture. Mofongo is mashed plantains which line the hollowed out inside of the banister top, filled with meat of your choice. It was delicious and rich and a teeny bit like stomach led.
Then I went to Senor Frogs.
Senor Frogs is like the cruise ship for 21 year olds. Maybe 19 year-olds. Definitely people who have just discovered what booze does and are VERY excited about it and find it VERY interesting and would REALLY like to talk about it or inhale more of it. You get drinks by the yard—or that say YARD down the side, but are really like just a little over 2 feet, probably for some good corporate reason. Then they fill these YARD glasses with all sorts of cocktails. One of the youth counselors who was there already and about half way through one drink said “mmm, vodka and oranges, that’s it.” It tasted like jet fuel. I then made the DEEPLY UNWISE decision to order a BANANA RANA—which no one should ever, ever, ever drink. Only because it gave me severe stomach problems to the point that I couldn’t sleep without waking up because there was a knife in my stomach. This is called the inflammation of the stomach lining. Gastritis. BANANA RANA.
We went to have traditional Puerto Rican food in San Juan. We had Mofongo, which comes in what looks like a banister top—wooden and kind of like a weird bowl/huge mug with no handle. Taller than it is wide. We were told we would wait for 15 minutes, but waited for an hour, which made me think about Mexico and make sweeping generalizations about Latin culture. Mofongo is mashed plantains which line the hollowed out inside of the banister top, filled with meat of your choice. It was delicious and rich and a teeny bit like stomach led.
Then I went to Senor Frogs.
Senor Frogs is like the cruise ship for 21 year olds. Maybe 19 year-olds. Definitely people who have just discovered what booze does and are VERY excited about it and find it VERY interesting and would REALLY like to talk about it or inhale more of it. You get drinks by the yard—or that say YARD down the side, but are really like just a little over 2 feet, probably for some good corporate reason. Then they fill these YARD glasses with all sorts of cocktails. One of the youth counselors who was there already and about half way through one drink said “mmm, vodka and oranges, that’s it.” It tasted like jet fuel. I then made the DEEPLY UNWISE decision to order a BANANA RANA—which no one should ever, ever, ever drink. Only because it gave me severe stomach problems to the point that I couldn’t sleep without waking up because there was a knife in my stomach. This is called the inflammation of the stomach lining. Gastritis. BANANA RANA.
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