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[20000lemursunderthesea]

This is how we do it down in Puerto Rico

It didn't start off on such a great foot...

I didn't want to wake up my parents at 4am to take me to the airport, so I figured I'd get an Uber. Now, my parents live in the middle of nowhere, so this was a crapshoot. But as luck would have it, there was one around when I needed it. I called it, and walked to the end of my parent's long driveway. It took the guy forrreeevvveerrr to get there, and I cried a little on the inside when I saw the guy whiz past me, completely oblivious to me jumping up and down with my suitcase. Then, for some reason, he just would not turn around. His GPS must have told him to go somewhere wrong, because I watched that little screen, video game looking car for about an eternity and it was not moving in my direction. I tried to call, but since my Uber number was still registered to Sri Lanka, it wouldn't let me.

Now, if you've met me in any circumstance that requires an airport, I ummm....have some anxieties when it comes to being on time for flight. So...that was kicking in. I was ssttrreessssiinnngggg. Eventually, though, the guy came and was super nice and got me there in plenty of time. Once landed, I only had $100 bill and never found a reason to break it up in the airports. I asked the guy at the taxi stand if that was ok, and he assured me the driver would have change. I was instantly impressed by the A. Set prices of taxis, B. Reasonable set prices, and C. Efficient system of getting a taxi that assured no one would be ripped off. That plus the fact that I hadn't had to show my passport to anyone and it was warm and surrounded by beautiful blue waters had me incredibly perplexed. What is this tropical utopia?

The driver was crazy nice, and carried my bags for me through this torrential downpour to my hotel. He did everything he could to make sure I didn't get wet.

However.

He did not have change. Neither did the front desk at the hotel. She tried to call some store nearby, but all I could pick up from her rapid-fire spanish was that everyone was very confused. I asked if there was a store nearby where I could change it...she said no.

I asked if I could check in and pay in cash and use the change to pay him. She said not for another 40 minutes. Then, she called her boss to ask if I could check in early. Turns out, it was her first day, and her boss had to go take care of an emergency somewhere else and she had no idea what to do. Cab driver was being so incredibly nice through the whole thing. Finally, we both got sick of waiting around, so he took me to a gas station to see if they had change.

They did not. Also, it was still raining all the water in the world.

So I found an outdoor ATM and got some for him. Luckily, he had grabbed some towels from the hotel, cause your girl needed them after that 2 minute transaction. After tipping him a whole bunch, I was finally back at the hotel and ready to check in.

And then I was on a hunt for tacos. And found the beach 2 blocks away. And the world's cash of beautiful, fit people. Seriously, everyone was running or swimming, or playing volleyball or doing some workout. They had those outdoor gyms everywhere and people actually used them. Seriously, San Juan is the land of the fittest people on earth. I walked for like 20 minutes...and then went back to the hotel to watch a bunch of Friends reruns and sleep.

The next day, I had until 4 or so before my friend got there, so I went exploring Old San Juan. I found açai bowls and health smooties and kale shops galore. AND Ben and Jerry's. This, my friends, was my city. If I ever move back to the US, it's going to be to Puerto Rico. I ended up walking 20+km to the old forts and back. And I entirely forgot sunscreen. I tried to stay out of the sun as much as possible...but I was crispy just the same.

On one of my attempted hideouts from the sun, I had walked a long long ways down this beach, thinking I'd go all the way back along it. I got about 2km before I realized there was nothing but rocks at the end. So I had to turn around.

Dejected, I sat on a tree for a bit to rest and get out of the sun. I was the only person for as far as I could see.

Until

Some skinny dude comes up and is wandering around. I notice that beneath his saggy shorts, he has what appears to be a g-string on. That seems uncomfortable, but cool, you do you, bro. Then, the dude asks me to take a picture of him. That's fine. He poses...by pulling down his shorts so a good portion of his...male anatomy is showing. I have a confusing mental discussion of weather or not to tell him. Decide he'll figure it out. Hand him back his phone.

He then comes up and asks me if I mind if he gets naked to take some pictures of himself. He's asking because I'm the only girl around for miles and he doesn't want me to be uncomfortable. Dude, I'm the only person around for miles. Why you got to do this here?

So I say...”uhh...go for it?”

And i'm trying to look at my phone in the opposite direction to give him some...privacy?

He then comes up to me, shorts clasped in front of him, asks me to take a picture of him naked.

Um. No. Hard pass.

Then he gets dressed and chats to me about Puerto Rico and things to do while I'm there and how to get to the rainforest, etc.

Finally he leaves. I wait for awhile and leave too. I'm done with this peaceful area for some reason.

I then find the best tacos of my life. With a side of edamame. And fresh fruit juice. I freaking love this city.

And...that was the last time things went to plan.

Everything we tried, from food to driving to different parts of the island, to hotels we tried to book, it all was a big ol' headache. None of it worth writing about.

But it was soon time for me to fly on back to St. Martin. The paradise of an island I was ready to call home once again.

[20000lemursunderthesea]

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Home, where my thoughts are ‘scaping...

Flying back home to the US at 5am, still a bit drunk and wet from breaking into a pool the 2am before, was tough on lots of levels. Luckily, two people had gotten up to wave me goodbye and help me remember where my bags were. I spent the car ride to the airport writing love letters to all those I would never see again and made the girl driving me promise to make sure they were delivered.

Obviously my connection to Chicago was delayed. And I was just so sad to leave. However, I had a best friend, a comfy couch, and Lake Michigan waiting for me on the other side. I spent the night catching up with said friend before running away from her again to catch a bus up to GRR. There I remembered that American public transit is lacking in all the ways, and 7 hours later, I was there. For those not from the midwest, this is a 3 hour drive.

From there, I was picked up by yet another fantastic human and brought up to Pentwater for a jaunt at my adoptive family's cabin. We immediately swam in the lake upon arrival, and I immediately squealed and shrank up in frozen horror upon entry. I love you, Lake Michigan, but you are not for the feint of heart, tropics spoiled, and chronically layer-wearing. The next 24 hours were filled with my oldest friends, their family, amazing food, puppies, being made fun of for being cold, and an extreme amount of emotions that I was not prepared to handle. I was just so overwhelmingly happy. To the annoyance and amusement of those around me. It was a confusing experience. Strong emotions are not my thing. And I do not know what to do with them. So the obvious choice was to invade any silence with “Guys! I just love you so much!” “I'm just so happy, what is this?!”. Mostly this was met by “Jesus, we know already. What are you taking?”

It was a weird time.

Eventually, I was dropped off at my parent's house, where all joy did what all joy does in that place, evaporates into the ether. But...comfy bed!

The rest of home was pretty uneventful. Friends and food and beer and a bit of Lake Michigan. A whole lot of sweaters and comforters and allergy meds. A quick trip back to Chicago. A trip to Cedar Point with my road trip and running partner. A lot of complaints about running from both of us. Some jammin' rock-outs in the car. Ohio pollen trying to kill both of us. A BBQ/bloody mary party for the meteor shower and sleeping under the stars until Steve decided to put me to bed. A Grand Rapids brewery crawl with some of the best day-drinking effort I've seen/been a part of for awhile. A wedding party. Basically, just quality people that I'm incredibly lucky to still have in my life; those willing to put up with my sporadic existence in theirs.  

But, the month quickly came to a close and I was headed back south once more. The way the flights worked out, it made more sense for me to stay in San Juan, Puerto Rico for a few days and have a straight up vacation for the first time in years. Annnddd I convinced a friend from the summer to join me there. I was pumped.

[20000lemursunderthesea]

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Life on the Caribbean seas...

After our little excursion into the wilderness of Kentucky, Steve dropped me off in Chicago and took all my excess stuff back to my parent's house. I then boarded a flight the next day for my next adventure. All flights went surprisingly smoothly and I met up with a bunch of my new coworkers in the SXM airport, where we were all waiting to be brought to the home base. Everyone seemed extremely young and energetic, and I tried to settle in to such a drastic difference from my last professional setting.

Arriving at the marina, we were greeted by the program coordinators and were given the lay of the land. Then, somewhat suddenly, it seemed like the place exploded in people and sounds and food. There were 50 or so of us instructors there and I was struggling to handle all the stimulation. Being entirely on my own for a year made this sudden infiltration of human emotion and activity really overbearing. It definitely took me a couple days to come to terms with it.

But, everyone was amazing, and I couldn't have asked for a better group of people to be my reintroduction into professional society. I've never met more upbeat, friendly, and relentlessly generous people. I was extremely upset that I did not get to spend more time with them. Honestly, it was crazy. I don't recall a time where I was involved in a higher concentration of attractiveness, intelligence, fun and compassion. Hats off to the hiring coordinators, for real.

It was also nuts to be part of a company that really seemed to care about its staff. They weren't perfect for sure, but lets remember how low my bar was at the time. They paid me, they gave me places to stay and asked about my emotions. Really did try (mostly) to do what they could to give us what we needed. And they had a rule that we were not allowed to be hungry. If we were, we were told to eat what we wanted. When we wanted.

I. was. so. confused.

This was not a life I was used to living. It was a life that I have since gotten used to.

Anyway. So I got there and we had a few days of manual labour. The home base was in this little cove area, separated from the rest of the island by a giant, steep hill. Supplies for the summer were shipped down from the US in a huge container. And, as it turns out, there wasn't a truck on the island that could take the container up that hill. So, it was dropped off at the bottom of the hill, and we had to hire a pickup truck and take consecutive truckloads to the marina, then across the docks to the homebase. This took about 2 weeks. In the tropical sun. We were also busy testing regs, working on compressors, getting the dinghies ready, and having a bit of training. It was a lot like summer camp.

After a week or so on land, we had a week or so of staff training on the boats. Where all the non-returning staff got to learn the islands, dive sites, and sailing techniques we'd be dealing with all summer. I was paired with about 10 other new staff on a pretty sweet catamaran. Within a night, we were already having dance parties. We did a lot of “getting to know you” games, and a lot of talking about how to run a course. And a bit of diving. Zero chats on how to teach a college course to students, but lots and lots of loving each other and sleeping under the stars. It was the happiest I'd been since I could remember.

Sadly, and to quote the staff training video we made, all good things must be just getting started”. And I had to actually work and go out on program. Mine was the first one to go out, so I had to get ready to leave ASAP. And after a solid day and a half of panic, and a solid night of panic drinking. And a solid few hours of drunken puking. It was time to head out into the sea.

The first trip wasn't ideal, I had no idea what I was doing yet, and teaching was a bit rough. However, even then I knew I could not complain. I was on a fancy ass sailboat, darting around the Caribbean, diving, and teaching kids about conservation and biology. Like. What even is that job? I got to learn how to drive a dinghy, work sails, see some beautiful beaches, and hike some sweet historical sites. I got to sleep on a trampoline above the ocean with some of my new favourite people, fall asleep to the stars and wake up to the always beautiful sunrises. Or, I got a big, fancy cabin all to myself. Either way, I was pretty pumped, though also usually very tired.

I spent the days diving, teaching, marking, diving, and sailing. And sometimes cooking. I learned by the second trip to bribe my students into liking me by making them giant cakes and cookies when returning their grades. Things went much smoother that time around.

At the end of it all, some of the kids even said I changed their lives. It was kind of incredible. They left ready to take on pollution and waste and start advocating for the ocean. Hopefully home and real life won't beat that out of them too quickly.

Or for that matter, any of y'all. Stop using single use plastics! Buy things in bulk, with reusable containers. Cut down on fossil fuels. Waste less food. Stop using straws. Just be conscious of your footprint. As I am currently in my second hurricane in two weeks, I think I can definitively say that it's beyond time we start taking some action.

Anyway. It was so good to have a productive and worthwhile summer with people I loved getting to know. It was a nice reprieve from my usual. Like I said, it definitely wasn't perfect. But it was much much better than it could have been/has been/is currently. And I was so sad to leave. But so happy to have had the experience. And to know that I can actually enjoy what I do. And gain some hope that I can find that again.

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Yala and Adam’s Peak

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Asia, Canada, Australia or Caribbean?

From there, we went all around the country. From Sigirya, an ancient fortress built on a monolith, to lackluster national park safaris to the sea. We did some dives with more of my friends, then ended back in Colombo to dive and have a goodbye party with my dive shop. They set up an adorable little table on the beach for us to all drink and not really communicate over. Those boys tried, they did. But for all our efforts, my Singhala and their English remained at about the same level as it started at a year earlier.

I'd been postponing buying a flight out of Sri Lanka just because I had no idea where I was headed next. I'd been talking to people back in Vancouver, in the Maldives, and two in the Caribbean. One of the Caribbeans sounded ideal, but I knew it was only going to be for a short time, and I didn't think they'd give me enough money to wait around for that time. One was offering lots of money, but it sounded wayyyy too hard. The Maldives was offering still a decent chunk of money, but a lot of pandering to rich ass people and sharing a small room. After being so isolated for so long, I was nervous about sharing a small space with someone I was also going to be working with and had no control in choosing. Vancouver was great, but not a ton of pay and that city is real expensive. Plus I wasn't quite ready to give up my tropical life yet. And umm..diving in Vancouver is real cold. Real cold. Plus I was running out of time to do a Working Holiday Visa in Australia which I’d been talking about forever. So...there was a lot of back and forth. Eventually I decided to go to the Maldives. I left a big suitcase of dive gear and stuff with a friend in Sri Lanka (close to the Maldives and a cheap flight away) and headed home to my parents for a couple weeks.

Well, as is the theme of my life...the best laid plans of mice and men were folly in the end. In the airport on the way back to Chicago, I got an email formally offering me the job in the Caribbean that was ideal all but for the timing and pay. They were offering more than I expected and it all around just seemed like the best option. Well...good thing I'd just left my stuff in Sri Lanka. Crapola. Luckily, one of my customers in Sri Lanka was American and constantly flying Business Class between the two countries. He agreed to pick up my stuff and take it to Kentucky if I'd pick it up from him there. So. There we were. New plan of action. I'd now have almost two months before the new gig and there was no way I would last that whole time at home with any sort of sanity in tact. So I would head to Vancouver to get some residency time in, see some peeps and decompress.

It ended up being amazing. Cold. But amazing. I re-solidified my love affair with the city. And I reaffirmed my plan to end up in BC. I was there for long enough to catch up with everyone who still lived there, and meet some new friends in the process. I got ahold of the dive centre I'd been talking with before and convinced them to have me do some temp work with them. They were fantastic and I really enjoyed working with them. I took me a whhoollleee lot to get re-used to cold water diving though. And Vancouver diving. Man, that is a workout. (So many hills. So much weight. So many layers.) But, I built a solid relationship with them and will be able to join up with them again when I return to live there. I also, unrelated to that, and before I started working, met a guy who was a DiveMaster intern with them and struck up a casual love affair with him. And, one of my good friends was leaving town to spend some time with her new niece and nephew in Ottawa, so she gave me her room to stay in. So, I loosely had an apartment, a job, good friends, and a boyfriend for the month and a half I had returned to my beloved city. Honestly, I was pretty damn proud of myself. It was everything I needed after such a hard few years. It was such a strange and wonderful feeling to be happy again.

But, as they do, all good things had to end and I was heading back to Michigan before I knew it. I stayed for a few days, reconnected with some people, and then went off on an epic adventure with one of my favourite people alive. Somehow, I convinced one of my best friends to drive with me down to Kentucky and back to pick up my suitcase. He even drove his car. Friendship man, ya can't beat it. I was subjected to his horrible taste in music, he was subjected to my horrible taste in road trip entertainment (Star Wars Mad Libs for the win!) and we both laughed until we nearly peed ourselves pretty much the entire time. Except when we were both recovering from whatever the mystery food of Cracker Barrel did to us. Bad life choices, man. But we did find some rather quality resting places. Like Deez Butts BBQ and the sketchiest flea market I've ever seen. Where he obviously needed to buy a machete. And Dinosaur World. Where I obviously had to ride all the plastic dinosaurs I could get away with without getting kicked out. And try to mount a giant mammoth replica...and subsequently fall off a giant mammoth replica.

He met a few of my friends from when I used to live there. We stayed with one of them. Though, she was in prime sassy drunk form the whole time and he was thoroughly entertained. We went into Mammoth Cave, where I used to work. It was great to see it all again and relive a very strange time in my life. We had some adventures even trying to get my bag, which of course was the main mission. And we did much, much driving.

To pick up said bag, Google Maps took up through alllllll of the most desolate and windy of roads. Steve was very convinced I had brought him there to die where no one would hear him scream. The bullet holes in the street signs were probably what tipped him off. He started regretting not telling his parents or anyone but his roommate where he was that weekend. Especially when we lost any kind of cell service.

Not helping matters in the slightest, once we finally got near where we were theoretically supposed to be, the road that we were supposed to turn down did not exist. Somewhere near there, though, there was a two track path. So I thought...I guess that's it? And had him turn in. It. Was. Not. It. At the end of this track stood a very clearly meth den trailer. It was tucked away, out of site from the road, and 4 or 5 pieces of various cars/trucks were scattered around it. Paint was chipping along the plastic siding. And there was once a wooden porch there. Probably. At least I assume that's what that decrepit pile of wood next to the door was the remains of. Knowing what I do know about said customer...there was NO chance this was his house. In the very small, very dark window, someone was moving the heavy curtains to watch at us invading their property. Steve then, in his infinitely smart-assery asks “Do you want me to knock and ask if they have the bag we're looking for?”

And then I basically shouted at him to get the hell out of there before the second amendment destroyed both of us. We eventually found the right house. In a very fancy, very new, subdivision further down the road. When we tried to explain our path, we only received looks of confusion and disbelief that we should go that way. And also very clear directions to not take that route again. Thanks, Google Maps. Thanks Kentucky.

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Sigyria and Kandy

[20000lemursunderthesea]

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Adventures in Sri Lankan mishaps

I eventually found my way by bus up to the diving town north of Trinco, and signed into the hostel my friend told me to stay in. His friend was leaving town that day, but his old butler-like dude was there to take care of me. And I was the only guest there, which was pretty cool. So I had some skype interviews for future jobs (cough*forshadowing*cough) and got ready for my early dives.

Dives were ok. Nothing to literally write home about. Besides the crazy plague of jellyfish that came out of nowhere on the last one. It was kind of like playing real-life Frogger trying to dodge in and out of them all. The poor guide kicked through a huge batch of tentacles and had to pretend he was fine, because professionalism and all.

Also, I squealed like a freaking child when a male triggerfish came aggressively rocketing at me. Pretty much the only thing I'm afraid of under water is a male Titon triggerfish in mating season. Those bitches be scary.

Anyway. After the dives, and going out with the instructors and my friend who owned the shop, they dropped me back off at my hostel where two rather large Sri Lankan guys were posted up with lots of arack. They called me over to start drinking with them and weren't about to take no for an answer. And to be fair, what else did I have to do?

They start pouring shot after shot for me, and them. And start talking a whhooollleee bunch of shit about who they know and who they are and how much money they had and how sri lankans aren't allowed in hotels for tourists because they are loud and obnoxious and don't act properly.

Have you ever found that people who complain about certain actions are the ones who usually preform those actions more than average? Cause I have. Anyway, long story short. This one guy, who could not for the life of him get my name right and kept calling me “Rho” got real wasted and kept looking at me like I was his prey. He'd get weirdly, irrationally angry about things. Like me not eating enough for dinner. At 11pm. Sooo...I decided it was time for me to remove myself from all that and go to bed. They drunk drive to some bar or something to drink more.

Weeeell, at around 1am, someone barges into the hostel room and whisper yells, “Rho?!” I wake up and ask what drunky-creepy pants wants. He wants to come sit on my bed and talk. I say no thank you, that I am sleeping. He says OK and leaves. Something feels wrong and I'm too anxious to go back to sleep. About an hour later, he barges in again and I just blurt out “PLEASE NO!” And he stumbles away. I have no key to the room and I am straight panicking for some reason now. So I lay there trying to get my heart rate under control, also trying to figure out any emergency escape routes I can think of. Or what preventative measures I can take. I don't have a lock on my door, so I try to jimmy a pencil into the little space where a lock would go. Still can't calm down. Finally sneak out into the open area and find a tree with different keys on it. Grab all of them and try them all out until I find one that locks my door. Finally calm down enough to sleep. I get up early to dive the next day, quietly as possible get ready and make sure to stay out as long as possible so I never see them again.

From Trinco, I head to Anuradhapura, an ancient sacred city where the kings used to reside. It's pretty uneventful and not that exciting. Mostly just hot and lots of walking. Then, I head back to Negombo to get some wifi for a second interview and pick up my friend to travel around with her.

She came in at about 5 in the morning, so I shared a tuk tuk with people headed on an outbound flight to go pick her up. I had an interview at 7, but figured there'd be all sorts of time before then. I grab her from one of the 30 exits you can apparently take. After trying the other 29. Apparently you need a ticket to even get into the exit part of the airport. We grab an Uber and head back to the hostel. She goes to change shoes when she suddenly realizes that she grabbed an identical...but still wrong bag from the baggage carousel. Ooof. Ok, back we go. Our hostel has a bus stop right outside it so I figured we could just jump on the one going to the airport and be there soon enough, change the bag, and still be back in time for that interview. And that would have been a beautiful plan, if I hadn't gotten the bus number wrong. When we didn't turn right away, I realized the mistake and tried to tell they guy collecting money that we needed to get off. The conversation went approximately as follows:

Bus guy: “Where are you going?”

Roya: “We are on the wrong bus. We need to get off and get on one going to the airport.”

Bus guy: “You want to go to the airport?”

Roya: “Yes, so we need to get off.”

Bus guy: “You're on the wrong bus. This bus doesn't go to the airport.” Roya: “I see that now, so we need to get off.” Bus guy: “Where do you want to go?” Roya: “The airport. We need to get off.” Bus Guy: “Wrong bus. This doesn't go to the airport.” Roya: “Yes, I understand that now. We need to get off. How do we get off?” Bus guy: confused look

Other passengers: “Where do you want to go?”

Roya: “The airport. This is the wrong bus. Please how do we get off?”

Other passengers: “No, wrong bus. This doesn't go to the airport.”

this continued for about 15 minutes while I beat my head against a brick wall. Finally, we threatened to jump off the moving bus, and they finally stopped it for us. But, by then we were about 7km away from the airport and there were no busses going the other way. For some reason, Uber wasn't working going toward the airport that close to it, and every tuk we came across tried to rip us off exponentially. I finally got through to an uber and we sat there waiting.

Uber driver calls us and asks where we are. I explain. He says “No. I am at the airport.” “Ok, we are 7km away and need a ride to the airport.” “No madam, not possible. I am at the airport.”

“Ok...well please come pick us up and drive us to the airport.” “No. I am at the airport.”

Roya: “........aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”

I honestly don't even remember how we finally got there. I think we sucked up the shitty tuk tuk price and just dealt with it. We finally got there and ran to the exit to exchange the bag. But oh wait, you can't get in. Finally we got it all sorted out somehow and after several more Uber/tuk tuk fails, made it back to the hostel...with everything we needed this time. And off we went!

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Just about half a year late...

Weeeellllll....I clearly don't write well when I'm unhappy. I had all these grand plans to go on and describe all my Sri Lankan adventures, but I fear it may have become way too late. Every time I tried to sit down and write about it, I just sat there procrastinating. I'll try to do a short recap. But all I can really do at the moment is apologize. I was truly miserable. In a way I haven't been since childhood. The isolation, the hunger, and the overall uncertainty really and completely consumed me and made me into someone I didn't even want to write about.

I'm not trying to say that all of it was bad. And there were parts I will try to spell out in words. But man, that was a dark time. But we all need darks times sometime, right? It sets your bar real low for the light times. And then those seem life changing. And thankfully, those moments happen in life as well. And then you go off for days on your friends about how happy you are to know them and how great the people in your life are and how wonderful everything is. And everyone thinks you're on some sort of pills. But I digress...

Sri Lanka moments of light and hilarity:

Once I quit, I had a month or so before a friend was supposed to come visit. She had already bought tickets, so I was stuck chilling there until she came. I decided to take some time to decompress and to go travel that country I had spent so much time in and seen so little of. Thank goodness I did, because it was finally a way I could see why people enjoyed the country so much. If I had just been a tourist, I would have also loved it. I guess my problems all lie in me insisting on REALLY immersing myself into places. Silly silly white girl. Ah well. Old habits die hard.

So I headed south for the first part of that month. Down to Welligama and then over to Tangalle via rented scooter. First off, finding a scooter was much more difficult that I expected. Secondly...let's all remember my scooter prowess displayed in Indonesia. So I was a bit nervous. By that, I mean, every single running thought in my head the entire 106km was “oh god, oh god, oh god, OH god, OH GOD OH GOD OHGODOHGODOHGODOHMYEVERLOVINGGOD”. Especially whenever a giant truck or bus would come up on me. Bus drivers in Sri Lanka are not well loved during the best of times. They're quite notorious for running drivers off the roads or just being suicidally stupid and reckless drivers. SO. I was umm...panicking. Especially through Matara, which is the second largest city in the country. I tried my damn-dest to time it so I only went through there during low traffic times. Which is approximately never – throughout the entire island.

It all went off without a hitch though. I'm a much better scooter driver the second time around :)

Also, Tangalle was AMAZING. It was so pretty and so cheap. And everything was just marvelous. My hotel I stayed in was lovely and $10 and had hot water. And the sea was so strong and fierce. The only land south of the south coast of Sri Lanka is Antarctica, so the waves are powerful. My favourite type of sea. I obviously tried to swim in it. And it was fun, until I tried to get out and more or less rolled in the waves/sand for a few minutes trying to find where the surface was and breath again. I was forced around for awhile, had sand in all the places, and managed to get out and laugh it off. Luckily, no one was nearby to find as much amusement in my smooth exit as they should have. But, I then had to wash the beach-worth of sand off of me again. So back out I went. Well. More accurately, back toward the water I went. Then the water hit me square in the chest and I made a grunting, oof-ing sound and down and around I went again. Finally, I made it past the break, and skinny dipped, rinsed off everything I could, and timed it well enough to get out unscathed, this time. I then gave up all future endeavors into the sea and admired its power from afar for the rest of the few days.

A friend, actually the guy I met on the plane entering Sri Lanka, was teaching yoga outside of Tangalle, so I met up with him and some of his friends for a bit. It was a lovely little getaway. But then I headed back to Welligama to watch some surfers and do a bit of diving. Really incredibly shit diving. But it was nice to meet and hang out with people again. I think I would have had an entirely different experience, even maybe a pleasant one if I had worked in Welligama, Hikkadua or Trincomalee. So it was nice to see what everyone else who traveled there got to see and enjoy.

I went back to Colombo for a bit to regroup and sort out all the leaving business. Packed up everything but my backpack into storage and headed out again a week or so later. This time to a friend who had a dive shop in Trincomalee (Trinco).

I took the night bus there. Which was empty and cold. And got to Trinco way faster than it was supposed to. So I had no where to go at 4am in a foreign town I'd only been through once before. No hotels were open, and there was no way I was paying for a hotel for 6 hours anyway. So I found a fort on Google Maps and started walking. I really just wanted to get to an area that was touristy enough to be safe, but out of the way enough to not be harassed. This actually fit the bill pretty well. I climbed to the top of it, trying to find the Hindu temple that was within it, failing that, found a cliff overlooking the sea and strapped in to watch the sunrise in a few hours. Of course, I accidentally fell asleep, but woke up in time to see an amazing array of reds and pinks anyway. Reminding me again that the best things in life come out of questionable situations and the choices we make from them.

From there, I headed to a cafe I had been taken to long before, during my first month in the country and tried to get breakfast. That obviously went poorly in direct similarity to every other experience I'd had in that country trying to get food. But finally, I wound my way around to find a hotel for super duper cheap and close enough to the beach. The guy was real real chatty, but also really accommodating, and it was nice enough for the night. In the morning, I'd head north to Nilaveli to dive and whale watch and have one of the most stressful nights of my travels.

[20000lemursunderthesea]

When Enough Becomes Enough

Disclaimer: Due to internet and time shortages, these following posts will be very delayed from the time they were written/the events that transpired. You’ll still get all the stories, just like a month or two behind. 

Ok. Now on to it...

You Guys. I did it. I finally kind of did it. I stood up for myself and got myself out of a bad situation. You know, probably the number 1 thing I’m bad at in life. Like, let’s all remember how I just stayed through all that shit at the last job for an entire year. When everyone else whom I started with quit. I think I just get too stubborn to accept that I deserve better. And yet...this time around I couldn’t even last 6 months. So I’m either getting worse at taking bullshit, or better at being a real adult. Whatever. I am now officially frrrreeeeeeeeeeeeee.

So I’m traveling around Sri Lanka for the next month before I head…in a direction…somewhere else. Location TBD. But that’s not important right now. What IS important is that I’m on the road again, interacting with people…and thus, crossing paths with the most ridiculous of this nation. Per usual. And reflecting on/trying to make the most of the time I have left.

Things I will miss about this island: 1. The abundance of tropical fruit 2. Incredibly cheap and vast availability of king coconuts and coconut juice 3. Unnecessarily creamy milk 4. Short eats 5. Pol Sombal 6. Pol Roti 7. Egg Roti 8. Ok, all Roti 9. Egg Hoppers 10. Stuffing my face for $2 11. Random, unexpected wildlife 12. Sunshine 13. Warmth 14. Nightly thunderstorms 15. Cheap phone plans 16. Adorable customers who take care of me when I’m actually starving (more on this in person) Yes I had to really give it thought so that it wasn’t ENTIRELY based on food. You’re welcome

Things I will NOT miss about this island 1. Unnecessarily noisy…everything. Seriously. I might have “It’s a Small World” Blaring From A Bread Truck PTSD. And don’t get me started on the people randomly shouting “HEEELLLLOOOOOOOOOOOO” trying to sell dried fish to all the houses. 2. Tuk Tuks stopping me every 3 feet to make see if I want a ride with them. When I didn’t want one 3 feet ago. But you know, new metre, new me? 3. The incredible sexism 4. People not knowing the answer but refusing to admit it, so they just make up an answer that sends your world into chaos for no reason 5. “Sri Lanka Time” 6. Rice and curry 7. Every Of the Sugar. (The tea is basically crystalized and even the pasta sauce is awkwardly sweet.) 8. The train system 9. Not ever paying the same amount on a bus – when traveling the same route for months 10. Explaining to people that what they are asking of me, or what they are trying to explain to me, is incredibly illogical. Realizing they don’t give a single fuck and they’re going to keep insisting it’s done that way anyway. 11. Restaurants never being open until 6pm. SOMETIMES I WANT TO EAT LUNCH, OK?! 12. Trash. Trash everywhere. 13. Excuses rather than action to fix a problem 14. Being stared at 15. Being pointed at 16. Being laughed at (by strangers. Who are generally also pointing and staring) 17. Being asked unnecessarily personal questions before being asked for my name 18. Having to listen to any sort of comment on my looks or body while passing someone

Things I’m ultra pumped to have again 1. A functional kitchen – which I am allowed to use 2. Working internet with not absurdly-low data caps 3. Friends 4. Hot showers 5. Steady pay 6. Reliability in general 7. A decent mattress 8. Recycling 9. Understanding what the hell people are trying to tell me – and them understanding me 10. Mexican food 11. Happiness – though that’s slowly coming back these days. Bonus pre-departure gift

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Huh...looks like I’ve made it.

I’m so sorry guys. I know it’s been months and months of dead air here, and I have been very aware of that. It’s just that everything has been so aggressively terrible. I didn’t want to write too much about being in the US because while I was moving around a lot, I wasn’t technically traveling so much as seeing people. And then, once I finally got back here…well. I just didn’t want to write something so depressing unless there could be at least funny undertones. And honestly, there’s been nothing funny. Just horrific isolation and incredibly negligent treatment. So, I do apologize.

And I do apologize again, because I still don’t have anything to say that isn’t a giant complaint or could be manhandled into humour. I have nothing that could later be looked on as anything but scathing toward the establishment I belong and the situations I am in, and I don’t think that would work out well for me in the future.

 However. I do have something to say that I feel is important. Especially in the wake of the giant implosion/explosion/tornado that is the US government right now. And by I have something to say, I actually mean my way more eloquent sister brought up something that I can’t stop thinking about. Here’s the exchange:

  So, in short, YEP.

I never really felt held back growing up. I knew that women had a long way to go towards equality, but a lot of the smartest and most productive people I knew were women. And they were encouraged to keep kicking ass. Sure, being women sometimes made our lives a bit more…interesting? (please read that with a lot of cynicism) And I knew that things would be more work for me, but I never felt like I couldn’t do something. Like just my genitalia’s presence alone would stop me. Maybe my psychology. Or my notorious bad luck. Or maybe I just wouldn’t be good enough. But not that I had an actual wall in front of me to break down to even begin to prove myself - even to myself.

But she’s entirely correct. I am witnessing daily how different my life is to men in similar positions. How entirely differently I am treated. How I am pushed to the side, ignored, and excluded when I’m in the same damn room as men discussing the plan for MY JOB while they don’t bother to even keep me informed, much less ask my opinion. How the only colleagues that anyone seems to have a problem with or complain about all just so happen to be female. And how any struggle that a woman dares to mention immediately places her in *overreacting* (“Oh she likes to say that she had to fight, but her parents had money, so her life wasn’t that hard”), and sin of all sins - moody territory. Like being angry and hurt is somehow the same as being emotionally unstable. And even if that were the case, has any emotionally unpredictable man (don’t even try to tell me there aren’t any) ever been called moody in a professional setting? No? Because it’s offensive? Oh yeah.

So yes, I’ve had men get angry at my disinterest in them in North America. I’ve had the dick pics and the fear to walk alone at night. I’ve had the catcalls and the blatant “you’re not good enough because you’re female so I’m not even going to give you a shot” in Madagascar (but the last part mainly from an American). And I’ve had the “You’re too fair to lift that tank” here. But nothing. Absolutely nothing has been more insulting than watching self-proclaimed feminists slowly strip away all semblance of equal treatment and shift the blame toward whatever is most convenient at that moment.

Is this what life is going to be like from now on? Does this really mean I’m in my career? If I cannot justify this any longer and leave, will I ruin that burgeoning, fragile career? Will I ever make it? Is this my fault? Is it really just because I’m not good enough and I’m blaming the patriarchy? So many unknowns. So much uncertainty.

So basically. They world needs to keep marching. There are many, many problems in that world. And far greater feminist issues at hand (women beaten to death for driving, for one). Many greater problems that all minorities face. And let’s not forget that whole insignificant environment issue.

I was very lucky growing up. I had the benefit of millions of women’s struggles before me. I got to be bewildered for a large part of my childhood on why women were still so mad and felt so unequal. I had the privilege of naivety. And let’s face it, I’m still highly, highly naïve to most of the world’s injustices.

But, let’s collectively not be anymore. Let’s not wait until we experience things firsthand to have empathy. Let’s not wait until it affects us to be outraged. Let’s listen to each other and fight for one another. Let’s smash all the bullshit we can in the time that we have. I’ll try to go first, but I don’t promise to be good at it. I’m going to need your help. 

(Also, hold tight for further announcements. And potentially more adventure/story blogs again. I’m working on making my life not quite so shit. For your entertainment, obviously.)

[20000lemursunderthesea]

PHX-ORD

Fun Fact: Crazy things don’t just happen to me outside of America. No no. Crazy ass people are abundant here too. Case in point: My flight back to Chicago last night. Everything was going smoothly. My first flight from Phoenix to Houston was early, which was good because I had an INSANE layover. I hadn’t realized it before I got on the plane, but it was basically 15 minutes between landing and the closing of my next flight. But. Because I was flying to O’Hare, I knew that connecting flight would be delayed. And as I checked on my phone before landing, it was in fact delayed an hour. Cool. I’ll just stroll over to the gate and get some work done. So off I go through the walkway thing, in a great mood. Then some guy is rushing his way past, knocking over people yelling “CONNECTING FLIGH!!!” Woah. Been there. Would have been there today, actually. So I’m intrigued. He yells to the flight attendant at the desk where the connecting flight to Chicago is. Like he knows all flights to everywhere. And which one you’re on. So I assume homeboy had the same predicament as me and I tell him it’s been delayed to calm his nerves. I ask if he’s on the 6:10 to Chicago and he has no damn clue. He tells me he doesn’t travel much. Which was an unnecessary statement. I check his boarding pass and yes, it’s the same flight as mine. I tell him it’s been delayed an hour. He asks what that means. “It means we wait” So I tell him I’ll walk him to the gate and we try to make small talk. He’s from Chicago. I’m from GR “We’re neighbours!” He is Syrian. I am Iranian “We’re neighbours there too!” I don’t speak Aramaic. This confuses him. He hates flying. He’s from the same neighbourhood as my friends who I was with before flying out. He owns a hookah bar in that neighbourhood and he would love for me to come and check it out. On him. Because I’ve been so friendly to him and he loves that. He asks if I’m in college. I say no I’m done. He acts all shocked “SO SOON?! SO YOUNG?!” I’m really not that young, guy. “NO WAY. YOU LOOK 22 MAX”. He then asks if he can get me a coffee or sushi or something. I say I’m fine and he says “Oh please let me spend some money!” Umm. No. Thank you. He then goes outside to smoke. Cool. Whatever. This guy is intense, but I can probably shrug him off by working.

Nope.

He comes back with an ice water for me (actually what I wanted so that was nice) and hands it to me saying “Here, sweetheart” Cringe. He then won’t stop talking. He looks at my computer in my lap and says “You like that kind of thing?  “What?” “Laptops and stuff?”  “Um. Yes. I’m just working, so I need it out?”  “Is it all charged up? You have enough power for it and everything?” “Yeah, I’m just writing, so it doesn’t take much.” “Can we watch a movie later?” “No? I kind of have a lot of work to do.” “Oh yeah yeah of course.”

Who the hell asks that of someone? Hey stranger person, can you stop your work so you can entertain me? How damn presumptuous.

Anyway. He continues at random with whatever pops into his head. I learn such gems as “I once saw a movie where they guy asks this girl out to dinner. And she says yes, right? So he tells her he’ll have his driver pick her up. And then they meet at the airport and she says ‘I thought we were going to dinner’ and he says ‘Yeah. In Vegas.’ And I just love that man. I would love to do that. I mean, don’t you think that’d be romantic?” “I guess? Seems like a waste of time though.” Then makes a point to mention his driver to me. And ask if I have a ride home. I definitely do. My friend (the Blue Line) is totally going to pick me up. Thanks for the concern. He insists that he gets up and buys something, so I agree to veggie sushi. He brings it back and tells me to get it all ready, then disappears again. He then asks about the soy sauce and I say I don’t know how he likes it (coming from Vancouver, people can be CRAZY about their sushi sauce preference). He takes that as a teaching moment to tell me everything about sushi…which he doesn’t even know the name of wasabi and pickled ginger. But he then takes the liberty to pour soy sauce over everything and tell me he’s making it just like a cake. Just a cake for you, my princess. Oh god. Barf. He keeps forgetting that I don’t live in Chicago and keeps asking me to come to his bar. Because I’ll love it. He knows this after knowing me for three seconds. I tell him I’m only in the US for a month and he can’t comprehend what that means. He’s like “But you live in Michigan.” “No. my parents live in Michigan. I don’t live in the US.” “Ok well you should come down to Chicago more.” “mmmmm…..” just going to let it go. Finally, he figures out that I don’t live in the US after talking about Visas like 40 times and asks where I live. I say Sri Lanka. He of course does the whole “Why would a girl like you live in Sri Lanka?!” bit. I tell him I’m a marine biologist. He loses his ever loving shit. “OH My God! I LOVE marine biology. Oh MY GOD. I LOVE ANIMALS! Give me an animal, any animal and I’ll tell you about it.” I was working on a piece about seagrass, so I said sea turtle. He said pass. Give him a different one. Then he took to just sitting across from me and staring at me lovingly. Finally, he says “Is this just how you are or are you lying?” Um. How does one answer that question? So of course, I giggle nervously. An art I’ve perfected over the past couple of years. Then he says “You’re incredible.” No sir, I think you meant to say I’m uncomfortable. He then goes on to spray a bunch of cologne on himself and makes me smell him. Gaaaawwwwdddddddd. So of course by the time we can board, I jump right the hell in that line. Luckily we’re in different boarding groups and he has to say goodbye now. So he makes me take his number and then wants me to call him so he knows mine. Ooohhh sorrrryyy. But this is a Sri Lankan phone and doesn’t work in the US. Even if I wanted it to. Which I definitely definitely do. Please don’t murder me and eat my ovaries. I have to go. Got to settle in correctly. You know. Things frequent travelers do… “Well you know. Sometimes people don’t always show up and sometimes there are free seats, we’ll see what we can do.” Ooof And my seat is wayyy in the back of the airline. Phew. Safe, right? WRONG. All of the wrong. His seat is also somehow way in the back. Even with the different boarding groups. And when he shouts in ecstasy that we’re so close, homegirl next to me GIVES HIM HER SEAT. Sonofabitch. Then shit just got crazy. He made a point to take out his giant wad of cash right in front of me and count out $40 and give it to the flight attendants. Which meant we got lots of free snacks…so…that was alright. And I worked on my computer until it died…BUT HE ASKED IF HE COULD WATCH ME WHILE I WORKED and read over my shoulder. So when my battery died, there was no fooling anyone. Then I got his whole, disjointed life story. He just kept saying things. In no particular order. With no need for prompting. So, to cut this short. Here are some quick facts I now know about my new boxer friend. His ex wife won’t sign the papers. And he can’t get lawyers involved or she’ll pull the plug on him “You know what I mean?!” “No.” And I still don’t. Because suddenly we were on the topic of how much he gives his children. Each get three cakes for their birthdays. Each have several iPads. His mother in law thinks he’s showing off, but why wouldn’t he get them? He’s made his money. People save up their money all their lives and then what? Then they’re 70 and have a ton of money and what are they going to do? No one could possibly enjoy life after 60. He was at some conference for Christian Syrians in Phoenix that I would have loved. They stayed up and partied for a week straight. Clearly he knows me well. Cause if I love anything, it’s staying up past 9pm and partying. Anyway. He’s headed to a party at his bar in Chicago. His driver will take him. He goes on tons of dates with women, but he doesn’t need to sleep with them. He just wants to watch them eat. Because women are vessels. They make the babies. You have to treat them right. He wants to take me out for fancy expensive tacos. He wants to watch me swim. He just wants to be my friend. He just wants a chance. He’ll buy me whatever I want. He’ll buy me a car. He always watches the Discovery Channel. And whenever a female marine biologist comes on “The men are ok too, but the WOMEN MARINE BIOLOGISTS…” he gets turned on. He loves animals. So you know he treats people right because if he loves animals so much, imagine how he is to people. He really just wants a chance to be my friend. I don’t have to do anything or anything like that. He just wants to kiss me. So he can say he kissed a marine biologist. He grabs my hand and kisses it. I squirm closer toward the window. Then. Then. He goes into his creationist rant. He knew I was "smart". He knew I was "calm and intelligent and knew all the things". And when he starts saying that some people think we came from maggots, I correct him. Because that’s not how evolution works. “Oh. You’re an evolutionist?! I knew it. I just knew it.” Well. I am in biology? That’s not exactly a leap. So I try to explain what the theory of evolution actually is. He’s listening to none of it. He’s just interrupting saying “You really believe that?! You with all your knowledge really think we came from maggots?” “Again. That’s not how it works. All life has a common ancestor, but we didn’t come from any extant species…” “ANSWER ME THIS! NO EVOLTIONIST CAN ANSWER THIS! Which came first? The chicken or the egg?!” Giant smile like he trapped me. “The egg.” “What?! The egg? Well then what sat on the egg?” “The predecessor to the chicken.” Realizing he probably has no idea what that word means, then go on to explain. Am cut off again. “You really believe this Darwin crap? Why do you believe this?” “Well, you can see it happening.” So I then go on to explain about why you need a flu shot every year, because the virus keeps evolving and why antibiotics aren’t as effective anymore and go into my Masters work. Etc. etc. Still listening to none of it. He then goes on a diatribe about how good his friend is at debating. How he knows the whole bible and can debate with anyone even though he never went to college. Cool? Then THEN he asks me if I believe in aliens. And tells me that he comes from such an ancient civilization, that many people believe his people come from aliens. Many people? Or David Childress? Beautiful. Just beautiful. I’m basically done pretending to be polite at this point and luckily we’re landing so I can stare out the window while he talks about his beautiful home he knows everything about. But can’t find very specific landmarks of. Once we are disembarking, I let him go first because he’s on the aisle seat. Then I “forget my computer” and run back and get it. Then run the hell away. And get chastised by all of my friends for not getting an iPhone 7 out of him. Don’t worry though. There’s still time. He told me that he’ll wait for me. If I call him up in 5 years, he’ll drop whomever he’s with just to be with me. I just need to call him when I’m back in the US. Anywhere in the US. Oh. Also. Me in the shorts I’m wearing are “out of this world.” Sweet baby jesus. And he left me with a real kicker “What if we just run into each other in 5 years? What then?

Moral of the story: Don’t be nice to strangers. Just don’t do it.

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Navy Pictures...my boss wouldn’t take any with my camera, so we’re stealing his pics

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Hey y’all. Sorry the updates have been so sparse. Truth is, there isn’t much to update. Nothing of real note has happened. I’ve taught courses, fought with the resort, stressed my face off, had the flu and several ear infections, and done a bit of educational work. 

I can’t really think of a single funny story worth sharing honestly. It’s all pretty mundane. But that’s probably not helped by the fact that I’ve been pretty broken down by this place and its idiocy.  It’s probably been one of the harder times in my life, and I can feel myself slipping away into a non-feeling, always angry, vindictive person. It’s not great. Thank goodness I’m leaving in 6 days. It cannot come soon enough. I need to see people I care about and talk to...anyone. And eat something. I’ve just given up trying to get food out of the restaurant because it’s actually impossible, and at this point, I can’t spend any more of my life sitting at one of those tables staring at my watch for 3 hours thinking of all the other things that need to get done.

So at least I look good. Only 3 kilos left to go! Starvation does wonders for your diet...for awhile. Until it stagnates because your body just refuses to have a metabolism anymore.

I am starting to feel better though. I’m not sure why, but I’m guessing it’s the fact that I have less than a week left, so I just don’t care anymore about any of it. This has been an interesting chapter...and I’ve proven once again that I can handle more than I thought. But...I’m ready to not have to anymore. Hopefully the next chapter will be easier, and more entertaining. 

Until then, hope you’re enjoying your lives. And I’ll see some of you SO soon!

[20000lemursunderthesea]

Roya Madam and her Sailors

So, remember when I trained the Sri Lankan Navy? That was weird. But I can now put Course Coordinator of the Sri Lanka Navy Divers of my CV. So. That’s rather awesome. We basically taught them how to do surveys and what conservation is…and what reefs are and why not to dynamite them and why not to throw lots of plastic on them. They also spoke basically no English. So lots of them now think they learned how to plant corals. So. Success?

Anyway. Here’s the story:

I spent about a month stressing out about this because as you remember from last time, my boss had just abandoned me to Europe for a holiday and I was trying desperately to figure out what needed to be done and what they even wanted me to do. All with the world’s worst “Free Internet!” at the resort. So, there was much money spent going into town to a real hotel and getting internet there. And much bitchiness was had by Roya to this “resort” I am based in. Much bitchiness will still be had. Moving on. The night before the Navy training started, a different boss and another dive instructor came to sweep me off my feet to a fancy hotel. With food that isn’t rice and fish curry. And with breakfast that isn’t rice and fish curry. Sorry, am I repeating myself? I can’t tell any longer. And it had a real mattress. And a bed long enough that my feet don’t hang off the edge. Let’s remember that I’m real short. ANYWAY. Long story short – it was amazing.

The next day, we headed over to the Navy Base…that we were told was “down that road and really prominent”. Um. Ok. We were greeted by a locked gate and armed guards who were all “OOOhhhh guest lecturer!” And someone hopped in the car and directed us to the classroom area – which is clearly not used much because they were busy scraping off decorations from their New Years party. We were then offered tea…but in the British sense. Where you go to the fancy Officer’s lounge and get sandwiches, roti, cookies, cake, and tea. We did a bit of an introduction to the course and to coral, had another tea break, confused the hell out of them when I asked where I should go to the bathroom, and then taught them some more. Then it was lunch break. (Yes, if you are keeping track, we are now onto meal 4 of the day. It is noon.) Then we took them outside to practice the survey methodology on land. Ok. So. Training the Sri Lankan Navy is real tough in some aspects. Namely the none of them really speak English and we didn’t have a scientific translator one. But it is SOO much easier in a lot of ways than 18-year-old Europeans. Namely. They do exactly what you tell them. Like. To the letter. Which can actually be tricky, because if you leave anything somewhat vague, it really throws them off. But anytime I had them practice anything mundane…they freaking did it. And they did it without question. Check the tape every 50 centimeters to see what’s underneath it? On land? Where it’s all sand as far as the eye can see? Oh. They stopped. Every. 50. Cm. For 50 meters. It was beautiful. Anyway. Then we had more tea before we left for the day. None of us could really eat dinner that night. So we settled for 5 meals a day. Man. The spoils. We spent our evenings making fun of each other and preparing slides/training aides. Life is so much more interesting when there are people to talk to. I’d forgotten how nice it was to have friends. I mean human friends of course. I did miss my frog drama for the entire week.

The week went by crazy fast. The sailors wouldn’t let me carry a damn thing. But they did take it upon themselves to use our breaks for photoshoots with my gear. Then at the end, they all friended me with profile pictures of them in the surf in my BCD holding my fins. Super weird. I basically felt like I was a celebrity all week. Every morning, I got 17 “Hello Madam!”s and about every 10 seconds, I had to take one picture after the other with all 17 of them. One at a time. Which made training a long, long process. And my cheeks hurt by like, middle of every day. They also are super comfortable underwater…but not super good at controlling themselves. Like, if I had asked them to just go without a tank and conduct an hour long survey holding their breath, they probably would have done. But when I asked them to hover above the reef and not kick all the coral…nah. At one point, we went out in super rough sea. One of the boat engines was kind of shit, so we packed 10 people +gear into the other small boat. Then, they realized that wasn’t going to work well, so we called back to shore to get the second boat. We continue on our way. Well, that second boat engine fails and they start drifting off to sea. So they drop us off…somewhere near the reef. (Oh yeah, their GPS doesn’t really work either) and then our boat takes off to go rescue the other boat that was supposed to be coming to rescue us. the other instructor and I decided maybe we should keep our groups together. And we managed to, for maybe 4 minutes. So I’m like…well..might as well continue to train. There’s nothing else to do. So we keep going. I finally towards the end of our allotted 45 minutes find the reef and manage to do some pointing out of different species. We come up to big waves and no boat in sight and all I can think is “Thank God I’m with the Navy and not regular students” Then “Oh no, if I get lost at sea with them, it’s going to be constant badgering about my marital status” And we all sat there calmly talking about how old I am, and if I’m married and if I have siblings, and if she is married, and how old she is, and how “it’s good you’re not married. Once you get married, your wife is constantly calling you asking where you are. ‘Why haven’t you called?’” Roya: Awkward laugh. Oh look, there’s the boat. And then we were picked up, as was the other team (Thank goodness) and we headed back in…super duper slowly. The guys were all trying to protect me from the splashes of the waves and I was just like “umm…this is my life, dudes” and at the end, I think they all decided that madam had balls. I got even more respect from there on out. And apparently they told the commander that I am tough underwater. Whether as an instructor or I’m just a tough broad, I’m not sure. I’m going with both

Then they let me drive the boat one day. I mean, I was shit at it, but it was still awesome. And then they each rotated around and took pictures with me while I did so. Obvs. At the end of the course, my contact details were given out since I was the one running the course and all. And everyone just sat there with their phones taking pictures of the slide. And very shortly after, I now have a whole bunch of Navy friends on facebook. And at least one message a day. And they have gone through and liked pictures from 2009. So. That’s excellent. And not at all annoying. Everyone else I was working with got like 2 or 3 friends out of it. Madam is popular!

But as one of the guys said, I’m probably the first woman to have ever taught them anything. Ever. Add to that the fact that I’m foreign. Add to that the fact that it is a “man’s” sport and I guess you can understand their excitement.

And anyway, afterwards, I was offered a full time job managing a research station and being in charge of all the interns and science that we’re starting up for the next year or so. And. The Navy guys wanted me to teach them PADI courses. So bonus money! Which is good…because that was a whoollleeee lot of work that I didn’t get paid for.