INTERNATIONAL NOMAD 2008

NEW BLOG! Brohogany Opulence

2010-01-16T20:06:00.004-05:00

Okay, Okay, Okay...

EVERYONE CALM DOWN!

I know I haven't updated my blog in a while.

You think I don't know?

It's MY blog!

Of course, I know! :-)

Seriously, so much has happened between then and now.

So, in honor of all the change I have started a new blog:

brohogany.tumblr.com

Yeah, so get into it.

Evolved life + new adventures + my forever growing knowledge & thoughts.

Thanks for supporting and I guarantee you are going to be grateful you have partaken in all of this.

ADS

[the picture is of me upon my arrival - fresh off of Virgin Atlantic Airlines - in London Town, United Kingdom, 12 January 2010. It's a new dawn, it's a new day :-)]

On and On....

2008-06-21T15:52:00.002-04:00

So I'd like to share a song.
Nothing more, nothing less.
A song that I listen to quite often.
I have been listening to it before the album came out.
It's great.
It's great for the summer.
I gets down and funky with it.
Folks know I love to dance.
So why not dance with the truth.

I will update soon.
No stress for catching up.
I am simply being.
But you better believe that there is much to catch up on.

Au revoir,

City of...FLASHING, FLASHING...Lights!

2008-06-15T21:02:00.003-04:00

This moment was captured by Ms. Tinkue a couple of nights ago after we had class.
We were in Mairie - The 3rd Arrondissement - off of the Hotel De Ville train stop.
For those that may not know - Paris is known as "The City of Light(s)."
I put parenthesis around the "s" because sometimes it is plural and sometimes it's singular.

This is an actual shoe store.
We were just messing around because Paris Noir - the summer program - is NO joke!
It's very critical and pushes me to really think.
I can't/won't forget the 1st day when we were sitting in Cafe de Flore and having our 1st seminar and Dr. Mayes asked us what we think of when we think Paris/France.
And it many instances it has been associated with mainly romance, beauty, berets, art, croissants, etc.
But rarely is the notion of colonialism and even recent immigration and this complex history of people of African descent, and even Asian descent come up in discussion.
And it all tied in the quote by Toni Morrison when she says along the lines of "...because something is invisible doesn't mean it's necessarily NOT there." It's something to that nature.
Basically, it translates to because something is invisible doesn't mean it is non-existent.
So these are things that I think about each day.
Our days are full and heavy - in a good way.
From panel discussions of what Blackness, Africaness, Ameristrocacy, etc...is...I find myself confronting thoughts an emotions all centered around identity from myself to my counterparts that make up and embody this world.
It is a multiplicity of contradictions.
The African Diaspora didn't only fuck with black folks it changed the entired world...forever.
Now, that's heavy.
Language, Culture, Plantationism, Colonialism, Sexuality, Religion, Spirituality, and SO much more are...

ADS

I made it to Paris, safely...

2008-06-11T20:39:00.006-04:00

The time right now is 2.38am in Paris, France.
I got here yesterday.

It was a journey.

From Brooklyn to Newark.
I trekked -
Duffle bag,
suit case,
laptop bag.

C train to Chambers Street.
Transfer -
Ground Zero makes me think...
takes me back...
I think about the place I was when I heard the news...
AP European History at Point Loma High School, 1st period.
I am headed to Europe and seeing history, making history, being history.
Europe bound - how ironic? Very.

I realize it's been Jersey since I was on the the Path train.
On my sidekick 2 I sent "au revoir" text messages, emails, AIM messages,
Stale memories of a love concluded.
I purchase my train ticket.
I wait for the Newark bound Path Train at the World Train Center stop.
Serenity.
A black woman with blonded and black hair and a gold tooth in the front of her mouth -
"Suga, where you going?"
"Paris."
"Really? For what?"
"Yes, studying black Americans in Paris."
"We in Paris?"
"You damn right."
"Well, I don't know you - and I am proud of you."
"Thank you"
"Now, don't you go over there and get in trouble or have no babies."
"*laugh*Those two definitely won't happen."
--If she only knew--
She smiles and walks away.
I rest my head against the metal pole and think.
It's getting real.
Train comes.
I board.

Duffle bag has rubbed my open arm from my tank top raw.
I need some A&D or something.
The excitiment made me not think.
Newark.
I text Janet.
I catch a cab.
I go inside.
She welcomes me with open arms.
I have no gifts to bear.
We chat.
We share.
He.
He.
Less than a day away of a lifetime change - 5 weeks studying in Paris.
A summer in Europe.
Visiting my Brazilian family in Italy.
Norway where the sun doesn't go down.
Red sungas in Nice.
Gay Pride in Gay Paree!
History unloaded and unlocked - overwhelming.
Black Paris.
Paris Noir.
The agency of black.
The fluidity of black.
A nap away.
Janet rests.
I sit.
I think.
I miss.
Ideas of home unclear.
A nomad in every sense of the word.
My connection lies in not connecting, or so it seems.
A survivor of many things.

3:00am my watch alarm goes off.
The little boy at the orphanage in Chennai set it.
Reminds me of him.

I awake and Janet is gone leaving me keys and free range to the fridge.
I walk around the house in my speedos.
Reminds me of Natalia's uncle when I met him for the 1st time in Bahia.
Freedom.

I call someone.
They call back.
I am happy.
I speak to my mother, next.
Blessings given.

Everything seems intact.
I confronted shade in my stay.
I used it as fuel and understand it.
It's not me.
I close that chapter.
Growth.

I fill my water bottle an trek.
Door locked.
Headed to Bloomfield Station.
HOT AS BALLS OUTSIDE!
Striped tee.
Rock and Republic jeans.
HOT!
I catch the train to City Hall.
However, not before I encounter the expected asshole.
Draped in a police uniform.
Hiding behind a badge.
"Ticket please."
I hand it over.
"Get off on the next stop, you don't have a stamp."
"Stamp? For What?"
"You know you need a stamp"
"I don't."
"You do. Just get off."
I think.
I sit.
Waiting.
Bags sitting in front of me - ALL 4!
His partner.
"Whose bags?"
"Mine."
"Going or coming?"
Does it matter? - I think.
"Going"
"Really? Where?"
None of your FUCKING business - I think.
"Paris."
*I left my sunglasses from my eyes to my bald head which is more dry than hot and sweaty.*
"Hmm...Really? For what?"
Interrogation? - I think.
"To study."
"That's cool."
His morale shifts.
I look out the window.
"Ok, get off."
His partner.
"Why does he have to get off?"
I continue to look out of the window.
"Because he doesn't have a stamp."
"He's fine."
"He needs a stamp."
"Well, hold the train and we'll get it."
He smiles and tells me to get my ticket.
He holds the train and inquires about my tattoos.
5 sparrows on my left wrist.
Every 5,000 nautical miles traveled is one sparrow - Semester at Sea did 26,000.
My rites of passage.
Sparrows signify so much - close to home.
I made it home - whatever this means.
I saw a lot, ate a lot, experienced a lot.
Not just for me.
To bring with me.
My dialogue.
My smile.
My tears.
My sense.
My questions.
My love.
My passions.
My me.
All parts of me.
He is blown away.
"That's awesome. You have safe time in France. I look foreward to reading about you."
"I'm flattered. One day."
I give him an article.
The one I wrote.
The diaspora.
It impacts us all.
Not just displaced people of African descent sprinkled around the world.
Cell phone officially disconnected.
I am happy.
Never thought I'd see the day.

Newark Penn Station.
5 blocks N. and 3 blocks W.
One tank top, Calvin Klein underwear, and R&R jeans drenched in sweat.
Monsoon style.
I look a sweaty mess walking in City Hall.
I see her.
Janet and Torres take me to the airport.
Laughs, jokes, double checks of what's needed.
Funny photos and plentiful kisses.
We part ways.
It gets real.
I check in - Lufthansa Airlines.
Plane ticket a week before.
It's reality.
Boarding pass and a smile.
Metal detectors.

Money exchange.
My roommate.
Happenstance?
Same flight.
We sit.
We talk.
We are on the same flight.
We journey together.
Only 2 guys in the program of 14.

Boarding
Dumb tired.
Actually, stupid doo doo dumb tired.
I crash upon seating.
Aisle seat.
In the stuart's way.
I awake.
My neighbor is nice.
We introduce ourselves.
She shares her Riesen chocolate.
She's headed home to Germany for the Eurocup.
Happy.
I see it.
I feel it.
I bask in it.
We talk and open up.
Life.
Travel.
Identity.
Sex.
No sex.
We drink wine.
We get lit.
Things are funnier.
Words are more intense.
I can see the words.
I can feel the words.
We open up.
We fall asleep.
We eat.
We talk more.
We photograph together.
We will be in touch upon my return and hers.
September is when I set foot on US soil, again.

We land in Dusseldorf (total sp?)
We part.
A kiss on each cheek.

Transfer.
Re-connect with Calvin.
We talk about our connections with our neighbors.
Trying to figure out the European adaptors to charge our computers.
Fuck it.
Wait til we get to Paris.
Get to Paris?
Wow.
Insanity, still.

A shuttle takes us to the smaller plane.
I am still taking it in.
But now, I am tired.
Time zones got me.

We board.
I sit by the window.
I nap.

We arrive to Paris.
It's a BEAUTIFUL airport.
I am like a kid in a candy store.
The escalators.

The Amazing Race.
Bags and suitcases in toe.
I have his stuff and he has mine.
We've known each other forever - or so it seems.
We see words in French.
I can cuss here?
Gee Whiz!
Because "excuse my french."
No need to be excused here.
"Damn, Spanish has come in handy and so has Portuguese...but I know absolutely no french accept shit like..well, my name and petit fomage. Yes, Little Cheese! I say "Child Cheese" and "Niño Quesito."
lol.
I digress.
Our goal is to get from the airport to Place d'Italie.
It almost felt like America's Next Top Model.
Be there at a certain time, check in, and meet everybody.
It was fun.
A really nice and cute guy - Eram - showed us how to get our tickets for the Metro.
yeah, simple like MTA (NYC's transit) but this is all in French.
Sweet guy.
We start our journey.
Standing at the base of the platform waiting for the train.
We look at maps and then look at each other.
Laugther.
We made it.
An older light skinned woman who kind of looked like the women in my family.
I hold up the map and ask her and she unloads a mouthful of French.
And automatically I respond in Spanish - don't know why.
And we laugh.
Thank God for maps.
She is going that way.
She holds onto the map.
We use our hands and body language to communicate.
She is from Martinique.
She is in town for a 6 day vacation.
She inquires about us.
Calvin has a French phrase book.
We remember on the train.
Train arrives.
She grabs my bag and motions for us to hurry up.
We get on.
I look around...
comparing and contrasting NYC's train system to Japan's to DC's/
I realize I am a traveller.
I realize I have always yearned to be.
Though it's been a fight.
It's me.
I love it.
A lot cleaner.
She sits and smiles.
She tells me that we have "Sept" stops before we get to our destination where we change trains.
Calvin pulls out his phrasebook.
We scan the pages.
I point to phrases and she responds.
She gives me her mailing address.
I pocket it.
An incentive to now speak French.
Homage.
African Diaspora.
A distant relative.
Our stop -
We transfer.
She guides us.
Holding my globe printed knock off Le Sportsac bag - Pro Sport Sac purchased at Hong Kong night marker 2 months ago.
WILD!
She makes us take out our train tickets to transfer.
Calvin searches.
We are tired, anxious.
He finds it.
She squares us away.
Placing my bag on my shoulder - it's now sturdy.
She positions me in front of the aisle so I can get through easily.
She puts my ticket in and pushes me through and hands me my ticket.
Next, Calvin.
Round II.
She makes sure we have everything.
Kisses blown.
Nothing lost in translation.
Love.

Surreality.

We wait for the train to Place d'Italie.

We sit.

We take it in.

We get on the train with lots of luggage.

We get to Place d'Italie and look at our route.

STAIRS FOR DAYS!

We pump in with bags that carry our lives for at least 5 weeks in Paris.

Going up and not looking back.

We hit the streets.

We are in Paris!

2 black men from the Midwest.
Kansas City, MO
Chicago

My life with me.
We find our apartment for the summer - Cite d'Italie.

No longer an email away.
A phone call away.
A statement away.
Now, a reality.

More to come...

Ms. Acomat of Martinique. An angel.

Time for bed.

au revoir,
ADS

négritude

2008-06-05T22:20:00.002-04:00

Just wanted to share some things...

1. "Ship Mates" Magazine. Semester at Sea. Spring 08 "My Life at Sea: Exploring Identity Through Travel"
2. Paris Noir: Art, Literature, and Life in the Contemporary Diaspora. By André D. Singleton

...but it's sssooo true, though!

2008-06-03T00:15:00.002-04:00

(image used from postsecret.blogspot.com - one of my favorite websites in the whole wide world.)

ADS

FUCKING INSANITY!!!

2008-06-02T23:49:00.004-04:00

I just wanted to share a video that I found on youtube from Carnaval in Salvador, Bahia, Brasil...

And yes, I was in the midst thanks to my dear Natalia and her family that showed me around and welcomed me while I was in town from Semester at Sea.

I literally re-lived the moment when the video started. What a memorable night.

I can't wait to go back and visit more often. Who knows I may live there during the winters. My immune system can't take the harsh winters. Sucks that my health is still impacted from cancer/chemo. But I am so glad to be alive.

Incredible.

I truly miss the Natalia and her family...and Salvador.

I must read for my program from Paris. 2 books have to be read in their entirety by Tues. June 10th when the program starts.

Me & Nat. Beijos mi amor.

Au revoir,
ADS

Live, Love, and Laugh...

2008-05-31T08:11:00.003-04:00

Wow, so it's been a super long time, right?
I'd definitely say so.
So much that has to be written.
So many moments to re-live..
Or not.
I haven't decided how I will go about composing the latter part of my voyage.
I have been back home in NYC for a couple of weeks.
I am definitely a NOMAD, now.
Fortunately, friends have let me stay with them.
I really did give up EVERYTHING when I left for Semester at Sea in Jan.
No place to live.
No job.
Papa was a rolling stone, right?
Indeedy, Petey.
But you know what - I couldn't be happier.
I don't think I have ever been this happy IN MY LIFE!
These past several months literally circumnavigating did a lot.
Like - going around the world really is a big deal.
13 ports....WWWWWOOOOWWWW!!!!
And that's not to leave out the actual voyage - living on a ship.
A black man who willingly raised funds to be a part of a shipboard community that goes through the Atlantic Ocean.
I am speechless.
Don't worry.
I will continue to write.
Hell, I don't know how to NOT write.
So just keep up.

So right now, I am in Brooklyn staying with friends - Pia, Sasha, and Heather.
I am really grateful.
I leave next week?
Where - you ask?
Study in Paris, France!
The name of the program is:
Paris Noir: Art, Literature, and Life in the Contemporary Diaspora.
It's a summer abroad program through Syracuse that looks at the works and impacts of individuals such as James Baldwin, Josephine Baker, Aimé Césaire, Chester Himes, Richard Wright, Julia Wright, Anna Julia Cooper, Jake Lamar and James Emmanuel. It is Jazz. Hip-Hop culture. Archie Shepp, M.C. Solar; Wendi Wonda; Dwayne Dockery, and legendary, Nina Simone. Paris Noir is Présence Africaine, Négritude, New Negro, “Sans Papiers,” Immigrant movements along the River Seine. Black International Life. Madame Christiane Yandé Diop, Henri Lopès, “Bricktop;” Jocelyne Beroard; Patrick Chamoiseu and Texaco. It is art and imagination. Henry O. Tanner, Beauford Delaney, Barbara Chase-Riboud, even Picasso, Géricault, and writing on the walls in the Paris metro. And places: Cafés de Flore and Le Tournon; Montmartre, the Louvre, le Quartier Latin and le 18ème arrondisement. African markets; the University of Paris à la Sorbonne and St. Denis, in the banlieu. Immigration. Expatriation. Home. Paris Noir is a dynamic concept, a lived and imagined metaphor that swings - - from New York to Paris via Africa, Haiti, Les Antilles -- Guadaloupe, Guyana, and Martinique. Paris Noir is trans-Atlantic expressions of literature, art and contemporary life in diaspora, and in motion.

Paris Noir is an amazing, intensive five-week program, taught in English, where participants engage a multi-dimensional international experience. This is a unique seminar of academic, cultural and personal growth, urging students to experience, rather than observe, the “City of Lights.” Paris Noir encourages cultural immersion and exploration. It is not touristic. You will see the sites from a variety of different diasporic perspectives.

Like a jazz composition, the seminar class is arranged to convey variations and diverse interpretations of the Paris Noir theme. It focuses, simultaneously, on contemporary literature, art and life of African Americans in Paris, today, and during the 18th and 19th centuries, while stressing connections with global and diasporic relations to Africa, the Caribbean and Europe. As students delve into the “City of Light,” Toni Morrison's famous statement that, “invisible things are not necessarily not there,” takes on new meaning. French Africanisms. African presence, influence, history and aesthetics transform and redefine interpretations, and tastes in French art, fashion, cuisine, monuments, and everyday life. African/Diasporan realities and imaginations generate, in turn, new variations and renditions of the Paris Noir theme.

The seminar's jazz framework, allows students to explore Paris Noir from a variety of disciplinary stances, and pursue particular academic interests. Paris is our classroom. Morning sessions take place at the famous Café de Flore. The afternoon is devoted to active learning, in the city and surrounding areas. There are no pre-requisites.

Now, isn't this cool.

So stay tuned.

In addition, I just want to say that I had one of the happiest days of my life, literally, yesterday while hanging out with dear friends. And we didn't even do anything but eat and go to Chelsea Piers.

"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about dancing in the rain."
- Anonymous.

A few pics are below. Enjoy your beautiful, beautiful weekend and summer.
You made it through another season!

Au revoir,
ADS

1. Heather grooves to Michael Jackson - get down with the get down!
2. Pia reading, DOWN! BOOTS! You better be educated!
3. Well, me, jumping around the world - now, from NYC to Paris.
4. Live, Love, and Laugh.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, dear friends Earl and Sasha weren't around. Thus, they aren't photographed. But I want to let them know that I love them and we felt them there in spirit!

Hong Kong it is...

2008-04-02T20:46:00.004-04:00

Hong Kong skyline outside my window.
Went to bed irritated because I have fallen behind in classes.
To be expected.
Not fun playing catch up.
Sensory overload.
A rainy day making me think of Seattle meets NYC.
The first image I see on a billboard is Dijmon Honsou.
I smile.
"Andre, you didn't tell us that you were EVERYWHERE! You and your damn CK's"
A friend jokes. That is such an Andre pose someone echoes.
Good times.
Hong Kong...never ever imagined, but I knew.
Every country is familiar, in some way.
What happens when one is not exactly a Stranger in a Strangeland.
I don't know.
Diplomatic Briefing, now.
These are cool.
Beijing tomorrow.
Jamie says "Welcome to Hong Kong" walking to fill her water bottle.
Lawd hammercy.
And last but certainly not least, THANK YOU DENNIS CHIN for sending me a Hong Kong list of things to do!!! Appreciate it!

I live for this pic! You better get it DH. Can't wait til it's my time, kiddo.

Ciao,
a

Gooooooddddddd mmmmoorrrrnnninnnngggg, VIETNAM!!!

2008-04-01T16:07:00.003-04:00

The time is now 1.15a and we left Vietnam two days ago. I am sitting in the Union making an attempt to study for my Global Studies test, adding info to my address book, and composing my thoughts on a raggedy sheet of paper. I smell like Carol’s Daughter skin products from my hair to my feet. I have had 2 Red Bull’s – hey, I know they’re bad…but I am in college and I fought to drink these to stay awake. Thoughts are racing through my mind, seriously. The phrase “I don’t need a gun to blow my mind,” sticks out so much. Hmmm…guns. I am not a fan. I shot 5 bullets out of an AK47 in Nam’ (Vietnam). Vietnam stirred up mixed feelings. I thought about the folks I know of and people who have family that were in Nam. I think about my perception of wars, guns, manhood, drafting, child soldiers, combat, armed forces, etc. My 1st day in port I went to the Cu Chi Tunnels. Wow. This blew my mind – see I didn’t even need a gun. The Cu Chi tunnels are about an hour outside of Ho Chi Minh City formerly known as Saigon. During the Vietnam War the Vietnamese built tunnels to maneuver. Tiny ass tunnels. And the part that threw me for a loop is that they expanded the tunnels for tourism purposes and they were still tiny.

My mind seems to operate in matrices so when I look at the tunnels I was taken back, mentally, to the actual moments of combat. The Vietnamese were resourceful and created some insane traps. Everything that was used against them they turned into a weapon or for their advantage. For example, tires were used for sandals. They’d take the rubber and make it into soundproof sandals. Tunnels could be miles long and so many feet deep. A person could stay in them for days. They cooked their meals early so the steam looked like mist. I can’t even begin to describe the conflicting feelings of being there. And believe it or not but all 180 lean lbs, and 5’11 feet squeezed into a hole that was about the length of a size 10 man’s shoe, and 12 in width. Firing the guns were at the end of the Cu Chi tunnels tour. I was petrified to shoot because they were so loud. And to know that people have been killed and still get killed by these powerful machines got to me. I was outside in hot Vietnam and barely broke a sweat, however, as soon as I get an AK47 in my hands I sweating like a MAD man! I could feel the sweat drip from my back to my butt. The guns were stationary and there was a person to monitor but it still –finish my sentence – BLEW MY MIND! Yep. Afterwards, I was still a bit shook up but not as bad. I thought about the people I know and loved that died because of gun whether they took their life or someone else. Liberating? Oddly enough, very liberating. I am not even going to try and make sense of it. What a day that was.

There were a few things that I had to do while in Vietnam. I absolutely HAD to go to the Cu Chi Tunnels and also the Mekong Delta River. I literally dreamt about these two. Don’t ask me why, I just did. The MDR was a lot of fun. I went with Nancy. Nancy is fun to travel with because she’s down for whatever may happen while expeditioning with Andre. She doesn’t complain and has a great sense of humor. And if you didn’t/don’t know…Ho Chi Minh City has the MOST motorbikes in the world!!! I am not sure if that’s a fact, but it’s more than I have ever seen in my life. I was in disbelief. The streets are flooded with folks on their bikes and motorbikes. Families of 4 - parents and 2 children occupy them, old ladies, teenage girls, business men…everybody. SAS warned us not to ride them…but they’re so cheap and fun. So what did Nancy and I do? You got it…caught motorbikes to Mekong Delta. It was a little of 2 hrs to get there. Don’t worry, I accepted full responsibility and was ready for whatever may have happened. That’s the only thing I did that wasn’t recommended. But the route was so scenic. The way there I saw what I pictured the countryside of Vietnam to look like. There were cattle grazing in the green lands. It was like sitting in the middle of the Discovery Channel. I don’t know about you but I used to be all into tv. I am talking about trying to look all the way in the corners and edges thinking I was missing something. Thus, this felt like I was just plucked right in the middle. Seeing the women in the rice fields with their rice hats on picking rice and seeing children wave to me as we flew by on the bike…unbelievable. Songs like “Clocks” by Coldplay, “Pimpin’ All Over The World” by Ludacris, and “See The World” by The Kooks will never be the same. It was a soundtrack. But the song that broke me down on the way back from Mekong is “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley. Every word I feel was written for me. Because I have always felt crazy – what? Seriously though. I am not even lying. I thought about all of the things I have been through in my life and how I was on the opposite of the world. I even burnt my leg on the motor while getting off. It reminded me of when I got stung by a bee for the 1st time in S. Africa and didn’t know how to react because it wasn’t as bad as I imagined. It hurt, yeah. But I was waiting for the pain. There is something to be said about that. So after getting burnt, Nancy said “I got some cocoa butter…chapstick.” I laughed and put it on. It was really minor. And it was funny because I told her that I don’t mind because it’s a souvenir. I can say “Oh this old thing…I got it back in Nam.” All about the war wounds, baby. CHEAH! But back to the situation at hand – Crazy. I urge your to listen to it. I love it. The lyrics are as followed:

I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place.
Even your emotions have an echo
In so much space

And when you're out there
Without care,
Yeah, I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much

Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Does that make me crazy?
Probably [Possibly (radio version)]

And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice, that's my only advice

Come on now, who do you, who do you, who do you, who do you think you are,
[Crazy lyrics on http://www.metrolyrics.com]

Ha ha ha bless your soul
You really think you're in control

Well, I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
Just like me

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on a limb
And all I remember is thinking, I wanna be like them
Ever since I was little, ever since I was little it looked like fun
And it's no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done

But Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably

Uh, huh

I just thought I’d share.
And for giggles I loved listening to “Save a Horse (Ride Cowboy)”
by Big and Rich. Love this song.

The actual Mekong Delta was what I imagined. We went to a
A few islands and listened to Traditional Vietnamese music while eating papaya, dragonfruit, pineapple, bananas, grapefruit, and drank rice tea. Unforgettable. Btw, that was the first time I had dragonfruit –DEEEEEEEEE..LISH! It is pretty, too. Loved it. After our face stuffing of fruit we trekked to a small canoe where we paddled…well, we didn’t really paddle, but they let us feel like we did. We went through a smaller part of the river, more like a stream and had on our rice hats, as well. The Vietnamese folks loved my facial hair. How do I know? Because they’d always motion to me them feeling their chins and smiling and sealing it with a thumbs up which is actually pretty fun to see. And to think that I wanted to cut off my facial hair but gave up after Brazil. The whole time I looked like a little kid with my mouth gaped open, I am sure. I couldn’t help it. After that we trekked back to the ship to eat dinner and what was supposed to be a nap turned out to be me waking up the next day. I have been really tired. So I called it a day. I was fortunate to go to Nguyên Đinh Chiêu (Trương Mư) School for the Blind on our last day in Vietnam. A friend didn’t want to go so she gave me her ticket – dopeness! So I got up and ate breakfast and made my way to the bus. The thoughts going through my mind were along the lines of “Okay, Andre…just go, don’t have any expectations. But how can you communicate? Any other time you have body language, but you can’t even use body language because of the lack of vision…” But going was probably one of the best things I’ve done in my life. The school wasn’t far from where the ship was but it took forever because of the morning traffic and the bujillion people on motorbikes. When we made it we had a meeting with the head guy Tâm Nguyen. Our translator, Nguyêt Câm, was the best. You know I had questions for days. The ages were from 5-20 years old and kids from all over Vietnam and it’s surrounding provinces. Surprisingly, it hit me more than I expected because I have been wearing glasses since forever. I think I was 5 years old when I got my 1st pair of glasses and HATED IT! I hated when I got my eyes dilated because things were blurry and I couldn’t watch “In Living Color.” So that took me back and not to mention the fact that people call me Ray Charles when I wear my red Ray Ban sunglasses. Sure, it’s a joke but sub-consciously I think about what it would be like to be blind. Just more surfaced than I ever thought about. So as we get there we go to the kindergarten room and they are singing and I instinctively sat by a couple kids and held their hands. They touched my forearm to my shoulder and laughed and spoke to their teachers. Unfortunately, while sitting with my legs crossed one of kids stepped on my blister from the day before…ouch. So I had to excuse myself. After I got myself bandaged up we went to the older classrooms. This was more interactive. I saw a few kids looking closely at their papers while reading and I figured they were the low vision students. As the rest of the students from SAS walked in they stood and introduced themselves and sang for us. It made me miss my younger siblings and cousins. I do love children. Before I know it I was being asked for my name and where I am from.

“Hi, what’s your name?”
- My name is Andre
**they snicker**

“You from?”
- I am from U.S.A.
**they laugh more**

That’s about the extent of the English. But I found that much impressive. After they sing their song about a “Peace Bird” I suggest to the group we should sing for them. After the teacher announced that they started cheering like we already sang. I was so geeked. So what song did we sing? Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, of course. They sat in silence soaking it up. I found myself closing my eyes trying to imagine thee voices behind the eyelids. And the applause we got before had nothing on this next one. One little guy was up jumping, I am not lying. We parted ways and went in the hallway to meet up with the other group because they split our groups up. But as we chilled in the hallway which was more like an outdoor terrace, I noticed Quy who tapped me and didn’t say anything. I just sat on the ground and he played with my hands. It reminded me of my little cousin Nylah who would play with my ears as I fell asleep when I was going through chemo. Then before I know it 4 other of Quy’s classmates were out there interacting with my classmates. No language needed, no vision needed, just touch. As I sat, they guy who jumped up and down to show us his version of a standing ovation came over to me and fell on my lap and just stretched out. Not too long after another little guy was playing with my hand and my elbow, and my shoulder, and then my beard. The look on his face when he felt my facial hair was worth a million bucks. He became infatuated and grabbed his friends hand to feel it as well and they spoke to each other. I sat in silence. No thoughts. Just there. In Vietnam. But the best part was when he felt my glasses and realized that my vision wasn’t perfect either. Touching speaks volumes, and to think that so many of us are afraid to. Sure we have our reasons to not be affectionate…people don’t wash their hands, some people have wandering hands…but it’s okay to live a little. Before we headed out for the day I met a few other students and one was making something – I am not sure if it was originally going to be a bracelet – but as we made our way into the room I talked to him and he held my wrist and felt my watch then held my other wrist and felt my 2 bracelets from Brasil. He then took the material he had been working on and wrapped around my wrist to see if it fit. This made me laugh because it made me think of the movie “Ray” when he would feel the women’s wrist to indicate if they were thin/pretty. Though Vinh laughed with me, I am sure he wasn’t thinking about that. He told me his name and asked for mine. I decided I wanted to the bracelet and asked my tour leader to inform his teacher and him. When she did he shook the hell out of my hand and spoke to me as though I would all of a sudden understand Vietnamese. The teacher put the latch on the bracelet and gave it to him to put on my wrist. He was proud. Something about that moment…

I wanted to write something up about Vietnam prior to getting there. But I don’t like forcing myself to write. I don’t feel like I am trying to get some award for this experience. I am writing because it’s truly my way of sharing this with folks that want to do this, consider doing this, care, and for me. I realize that I must release what is inside and not internalize because it’s not healthy and it’s valid. I truly do wonder as I wander. I am just me. My feelings evolve. As much as I have my hang-ups and irritations with Semester at Sea…I am so damn grateful to be here. I am so grateful. This has been a hell of a journey. And though on paper it is more than halfway over. I truly know that this is the beginning. I don’t know what is ahead but I am here, now. I am doing my best to massage the numbness of so many things out that have taken place in my life. I let time run it’s course. I cry when it’s time to cry, I laugh when it’s time to laugh, and I love. These are all my meandering thoughts and a year from now they may be the same or they may be the polar opposite. However, whatever they are…it is what it is. One life to live.

In conclusion, a dear friend of mine sent me this and it brought me tears. It aided in massaging this anger in the middle of my chest from so many things. Obama’s speech had the same impact. And afterall, I am realizing that I am crazy and not crazy – it’s all a part of being human. Welcome, to the human experience:

To you, my friend,
Whose eyes have been opened by the light of knowledge Whose heart has been burdened by the weight of knowledge Whose mind has been freed by the power of knowledge And whose hands shall forever work to share that knowledge,
I know that your journey has been an enlightening one, fraught with discovery and insight. You will return to your native country a changed man, but a man in the truest sense of the word. You will have accomplished something most people only dream of, hope for, pray for...
You will be the man that life has meant for you to be. You will know instinctively the path that your life should take. You’ll always have the burden of history behind you, but you will also have the strength of history behind you. You will have millions of people - past, present and future - standing beside you, supporting you in all your endeavors. And you will have me, a lifetime friend and confidant.
I hope that your journey has been a safe and happy one. I’ve been following your exploits on all your various blogs and posts and loving every minute of your trip. Glad to hear you managed to meet up with your godsister during your trip. That was obviously something that was meant to happen - I don’t believe in coincidence. ;-) Kinda like you and me - meant to happen as it has.
Be well on the rest of your journey. Know that I am always thinking about you and hoping for the best for you. Love ya kid! Have a great time! Chat with you soon!
Louie

****And on that note – I gotta finish studying and pass these classes. Next stop, Hong Kong, Beijing, and Shanghai!****

Ciao lindos/lindas,
a

Oh yeah, and how could I forget this - Brazil Pt. II. Well, for those of you who have been following my blog then you know that I had a situation where I accidentally left half of my clothes in Salvador. For details check the archives. I took another chance in HCMC, Vietnam and got my few jeans that I still have tailored. I couldn't beat the couple of dollars it would cost to make my jeans look like they were poured on. Well, my motorbike driver for the day, Dang, took me to a place and I could have sworn the lady said the jeans would be ready at 6p. But somewhere lost in translation she said 5p. I don't know. To make a long story short, I show up at 6p and she has payed me dust, honey. Shut down and locked. I shook my head in disbelief. Dang actually took me to Mekang Delta so he promised before we went to the MK he would take me there in the morning. We did just that and she scolded me, politely in Vietnamese. I was happy though - I TOOK A CHANCE! And it was worth it. But it would have sucked SO BAD to have not gotten these clothes. My grandma nem must be praying for me...m-hmm, sho nuff right.

Listening to - "Woh Ajnabee - The Train" by Mithoon & Shilpa Rao. Love this song! Got it India. Alright, I am gone for real. I must finish my readings.

Cansei De Ser Sexi...

2008-03-23T06:10:00.001-04:00

Grand Baie, Mauritius

Song: Music is My Hot, Hot Sex...

Music is my boyfriend

"Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen." - Benjamin Disraeli

2008-03-23T04:33:00.021-04:00

::Disclaimer - Please, excuse the titles and order of pictures. Use your inductive reasoning skills and figure which goes with which...it can acutally be fun, yeah??? ...Unfortunately, I can't re-organize them, now. Such is life::

A snapshot.
A mere snapshot.
My meandoring gaze, thoughts, feelings, vision, desire.
Dalit - we embraced and danced...compromised identity lost in translation. Dark skinned and white teeth connected.
Disembarking Malaysia, today.
Halfway through through this journey.
Africa, Amerigo Vespucci, Harriet Tubman, Negritude, Strange Fruit, food, culture, association...all come to mind.

Again, just my lens.
Still learning.
I excuse myself.

*Coldplay - Brothers and Sisters is playing*

Men of Dalit - Chennai, India

When in India, do what the Indian's do - WEAR LUNGI'S! - Chennai, India

We Danced - Chennai, India

Moi - Grand Baie, Mauritus

Sunjen and Me @ Kek Lok Si Temple - Penang, Malaysia

Dean at InterAmericana University - San Juan, Puerto Rico

Kek Lok Si Temple - Penang, Malaysia

Robben Island barbed wire - Robben Island, Cape Town, South Africa

Cell of Nelson Mandela - Robben Island, Cape Town, South Africa

Kek Lok si

A turtle gotta eat, too - Penang, Malaysia

Purple Sunshine - Penang, Malaysia

Their Wings - Chennai, India

Serenity - Cape Town, South Africa

Unforgettable - Chennai, India

Saudades...Nat and Mel - Salvador, Bahia, Brasil

André

Pronounced Muh-lay-see-yuh (Malaysia)...

2008-03-21T06:23:00.004-04:00

Random:

While eating lunch at a Malaysian restaurant I heard "Too Little, Too Late" by Jojo blasting from 1 of 2 muslim girls cell phone, only to be followed by "Because of You" by Kelly Clarkson while enjoying my curry naan and freshly squeezed apple juice that tasted like someone took a straw and jabbed it right into an apple. Surreal. Truth be told, I wasn't too surprised about the music - globalization - however, I just didn't have my external harddrive to ask if I could sync the music - let alone, I don't speak Malay. But when has language ever been a barrier?

ps - Penang is sssssoooo chill! Listening to "Kamasutra" by Yogi B. Pretty dope artist from India. Get into it.

Ciao,
A

The truth is miles apart...

2008-03-20T01:51:00.003-04:00

Goodness gracious.
I am in an internet cafe, right now.
Penang, Malaysia.
Still processing Chennai, India.
WTF?? I swear to God.
Man, seriously, I...have been trying to compose my thoughts, not even for the sake of writing a blog entry but just for the sake of Andre.
Moreover, this isn't a blog about India.

I am happy to have checked my email for the first time in ages and have a few emails. People have told me that they missed me. It feels good. I have to always make sure that I don't give off the wrong vibe...I AM NOT MISERABLE!

*thinking*

Okay. This reminds me of the times when people think that I have an attitude because I am not talking or being super involved in the conversation. Sometimes I just sit back. I can't explain the space that I am in - I am just in it. The world is every extreme possible. From staying in a Dalit Village in South India to watching a shadow puppet show at University Science Malaysia and hanging out with students from all over Malaysia. I DON'T HAVE WORDS FOR IT! I often hear people talk about that they are doing things they only dreamt about - I have never event dreamt about certain things. The knowledge that I have/had of places such as Malaysia are to the extent of knowing that clothes and shoes are/were made here. Learning and seeing places like District 6 in S. Africa where Blacks, Coloureds,and Malays lived but were forced to move from...I am not only learning about it but trailing the footsteps and connecting the dots. And no matter how much I write, and to what depth...it's a whole different impact to see it...in addition to all the other factors that I talk about. Don't worry, I am not in danger of having an aneurysm from it all.

All in all - I am indeed having a great time. But it's not the good time that one automatically considers as a good time with everyone holding hands and drifting through the world with delightful naivety.

The food in Malaysia is uber good.
I am learning to eat with my right hand - scoop with the finger tips and not lick my fingers. This I learned in India. In addition, I did it while eating lunch.

Oh yeah, so funny, soon as I got off of the ship I was walking off of the dock to the main street where there were cab drivers...and soon as they see me they start calling me brother and asking me where I was from. Did I not just get off the ship? Yeah, it's consistent in every port, thus far. I know this black guy did not get off of the ship. So I have been African, European, Caribbean - everything but American. And of course, I get updated on the US politics "You like Obama? Yes, brotha, I like Obama. We want him." So though, I don't get the paper and don't have internet minutes, I can expect a good convo shortly after my arrival. I just have to give it time.

I have a small afro and a face of facial hair. I more than likely won't shave until I get back to NYC - in May. I thought I'd stay in Miami for a minute...NOPE! It will be nice to visit but I miss home. I can honestly say it. Again, I am not hoping this voyage goes by faster, NO, but I feel it's important to acknowledge how I feel. I miss text messaging, I miss unlimited email, I miss late night phone calls, I miss friends, I miss family, I miss friends that have become family, I miss family that has become friends, I miss crashing people's iceboxes. But I said it once and I will say it again I LOVE THE SPACE I AM IN! It is so real. In fact, it's real to the nth degree. I have traveled and moved around enough to know when I feel a certain way. I remember moving from Kansas City to San Diego when i was 14. It was hard as hell in the beginning. In fact, I never quite got used to it, but I learned to appreciate it and now I truly appreciate it...it's a part of me. Next, when I went to Morehouse College and did everything on my own...hurt like hell, then got cancer, but I pushed through. Feelings never quite went away of wanting to study there but my path is different. I still have tinges of anger, distress, incompleteness, but then again I live in NYC, now. It's like a relationship and how they pan out. You may not be with your first love but that next love will be completely different. I am not a fool. It's some universal theme in life...I can't articulate it, nor figured it out...but it exists.

I love my voyage
I hate my voyage
I am happy
I am pissed
I am pleased
I am unsatisfied
I am irritated
I am irritating
I express.

It's a trade off.

ps - in the picture if you look really closely then you will see that you can finely see through my lens. The rest of the landscape shows that I am but I am a microcosm of a macrocosm. This blog reflects how I see and am experiencing things. Life doesn't come with instructions or explanations. Those are up to us.

Well, I need to try and figure out some things online.

Right now, I am listening to "Mikey Rocks" by The Cool Kids. My roommate gave me this song.

"No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow."

— Lin Yutang

Andre

A is for Africa - M is for Mauritius

2008-03-05T19:06:00.002-05:00

Zulu, Xhosa, English, American, Capetonian, black, African, Table Mountain, townships, music, dance, Robben Island, Waterfront, Green Point, Green Market Flea Market, Enslavement, Europe, disconnection, apartheid, gay, shade, cool, wind, love, blank, beads, bush, manhood, womanhood, tradition, struggle, sunset, Exclusive Bookstore, Bahamadia, New York City, Midwest, San Diego, California, disbelief, belief, Africana, ignorance, Malawi, ocean, Coloureds, accent(s), exoticism, oppression, scenery, wine, class, negotiation, yearning, truth, validation, coarse, thick, identical, World Cup, 2010, colonization, repetition, amnesty, Castle, Appletizer, Toyi Toyi, fuck it, thoughtful, COMPLEX, identity, co-exist, co-habit, rand, dollar, patience, self-fulfilling prophet(s), braids, influence, Wood fire, import, circumnavigate, smile, hurt, repression, global, spiritual, sexual, financial, sensual, siblings, peace, disdain, antipathy, question, worry, passport, unknown, familiar, food, HIV/AIDS, health, strategic, divide, dependence, rejection, re-build, oblivious, ignored, confused, speechless, frustrated, speechless, awe, spell bound, brilliant, royal, scents, feelings, numb, alone, lonely, free, liberated, restricted, perform, relationship, interaction, gray = black and white, murky, seals, elant, experience, Bronx, Beulah, Pride, (mis)educate, rage, beauty, fierce, future, past, present, liaison, currency…

These are the words that I wrote while free writing immediately after leaving Cape Town. Right now, it is 3/6/08 and the time is 2:07am. I am sitting and thinking – as I listen to the Mauritian National Anthem plays in my ipod. We left Mauritius, now, 2 days ago. I really enjoyed Mauritius.

Cape Town…1st I must mention the young lady that really made my trip special – Ms. Lerato. I met Lerato at her place of work while asking how to get to a bar/club to meet up with friends. She was so got damn funny and we immediately said we’d have to hangout. After using 4 pages of my planner to describe how to get to Bronx nightclub she gave me her cell and told me that she wanted me to go to a concert with her.

- Rewind –

The first day off of the ship I went to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela and other political prisoners were incarcerated under seriously harsh conditions. I initially didn’t know how to feel. I am an emotionally honest person, often I feel to a fault, so I wanted to make sure that I brought myself completely. Compliments of educators like Tchaiko Kwayana and Maryemma Graham I have been aware of the Apartheid Act - google it, and the impact of Nelson Mandela.

After the 15-20 minute boat ride from the mainland to Robben Island I stood in silence. I couldn’t speak. I first of all was still trying to take in the fact that I was in Africa, period. The fact that the stress and strain of making this happen this past semester showed me that each day of sea sickness, each tinge of loneliness, every annoyed thought of having to write a paper, every moment of being frustrated by financial circumstances all made sense as I stood on the small boat that seated about 15 people, tops. I remember vividly wondering how it must have felt to be Steve Biko or Mandela to unwillingly have to take the same ride to this island that treated them less than human. The entire voyage on Semester at Sea, especially through the Middle Passage, makes me think of how I travel willingly where my ancestors didn’t even know where they were going. But before I go on a tangent I must finish. So as the boat actually pulls into Robben Island which is now a full out tourist affair I just try and brace myself. We all (students and faculty) board buses that have big glass windows and no air conditioning. Right above the top of the bus is the entrance of Robben Island and though it looks like it has been touched up it still gives me the feeling of uneasiness. Not even 200 meters into the prison area, which is actually a small town, we have to pump our breaks to let a small black penguin cross. It was adorable. It was bizarre to see this penguin crossing the street in Africa. It almost sounds like a bad joke…”what did the bus driver that saw the black penguin crossing the street in Africa…?” –drum roll- Exactly, I digress. But after that we begin to get the spiel about the island and its history. Initially, Robben Island is where the folks that suffered from Leprosy would be hauled off. We were shown the quarters in which the inmates had to work mining limestone for 8-12 hours a day (hours aren’t exact). It was so intense to see. Then we finally made it to the quarters in which the inmates and Mandela occupied. First, I must share that there was a moment in which I was fuckin scared as hell. So those who know me know that I am not a scary person but I can be frightened fairly easily. So the acoustics in the prison were fierce. Our guide was incarcerated during the same time as Mandela and as we were leaving one of the rooms, not cell, he slams the door and it rips through the hallways. I am so glad that I didn’t have diarrhea from the food in S. Africa because I wouldn’t have had it just oozing down my leg. Talking about scaring the shit out of someone. But in all honesty, it really startled me. But he didn’t use a lot of force, it was just the way it was built. And he mentioned that he’d hear that all the time – morning, noon, night, ALL THE TIME! Mentally, that will get to someone. And fortunately for me my mind seems to operate in some type of matrix or matrices format so I feel like Raven Simone on the show “That’s so Raven” when she just zones out and envisions things. So in that moment I imagined these prisoners being frustrated, and just living in hurt on so many levels. The guide also mentioned that when letter were written to them that they would get letter, but not the body of it. Yes! The actually body of the letter would be cut out. So it will read like “ Dear Johnny, … Love, Moma.” Where the “…’s” are will cut out. Can you imagine? And when writing letters they’d have to write how “well” they are being treated or the letter wouldn’t make it out. And the main part that really got to me is the fact that this wasn’t LONG AGO! The Apartheid ended like yesterday. I really can’t even form my thoughts on Cape Town and my feelings, yet. I am still in disbelief at things. Shortly after he shared his story with us we had chance to see Manela’s cell. We looked at his garden. I didn’t look; I re-lived. I thought about the fact that he had a red bucket for his using the bathroom. His bed? There wasn’t one. He slept on a mat. I am still going through it as I write, now. I had previously read that the black prisoners had to wear shorts (short pants) and at one point Mandela had the opportunity to wear them but he refused until the rest of the black prisoners did, as well.

FUCK! I can’t even gather my thoughts and it’s frustrating. My friend Jazmine gave me the sweetest S. African house music that gets me on some real chill and reflective type of ish. But as I sit here I can feel the frustration of systematic inequalities, fuckin ignorance, vintage/retro ignorance and racism, sexism, homophobia, fulfilled self-hating prophecies, generational underdevelopments of peoples globally, health taken for granted, unseen and unrecognized beauty. I lie to you not – I can feel my stomach tense. It hurts on so many levels. The song that I am listening to right now is named “Spinnin (Life Keeps On)” by Blackwhole and Mimi. The lyrics…

“Life keeps on turning turning turning, life keeps on pushing pushing pushing pushing…
Life keeps on turning turning turning, life keeps on pushing pushing pushing pushing…
(repeat over and over and over and over)

Just to make things right,
Ohhhhhhhh hhhhooooooooo…

All that I am hoping for is to make things right,
oOOOOOoooooo hhheeeeYYYYYYY”

Simple but powerful. The beat is EVERYTHING! She is just singing. I am not even going to apologize for my thought being everywhere…tis what it is. Ya smell me? But it is really blowing my mind how every country the people speak to me in whatever language is the language spoken. That…is phenomenal. As a kid I didn’t know this type of shit would happen. No one talks about how people of African descent/black people/Afro, etc. were in all of these places. I have been Puerto Rican, Brasilero, Black, Coloured, Bahemian, S. African, Mauritian, and even English and Jamaican. The visibility is showing. The agency is eye opening. It’s amazingly complex. The fact that I grew up in Kansas City, Missouri, and San Diego, CA and when I travel people have no idea they just hit me with an “Oi, tudo bem,” or “Como estas?” just shows me that our ancestors were more than slaves. I can attest to the fact that the extent of African American/Diasporic history was reduced to the Mayflower and Stepin Fetchit. Colonization has done a fuckin number on black people around the world. I will never forget when a white guy came up to me at a bar on the Waterfront by Victoria Wharf Mall and says “OH MY GOODNESS, MAN! You look like a Zulu Man but speak English so well.” What in the hell? Now, some would definitely argue that he just got excited to see someone that “looks African” speak English with an American accent. I felt so carnavalized. It was a disappointing moment. This dude was so excited. And I asked him to excuse himself, which he did. Again, another moment of sheer blankness. I just sat out and a lot of thoughts negotiated moments to entertain me about this entire voyage. And as beautiful as Cape Town I have to admit that it may be a minute before I return. Though, I must admit Lerato, Rhea, Lia, Sophia, Alex, Sele, Nick, Victor, Victoria, Mike, and so many other folks showed me such an amazing time, there were just moments my spirit just didn’t feel it. I felt an array of feelings. There was just such a major disconnect. And I will just get some discourse going on that in the near future. I am at a standstill. I was so sad to part with Lerato and the girls because on the last night we went and partied at Moma Zula’s on Long St. Since it was Gay Pride we were going to go to the Red Party but vetoed it when they wanted 80+ rands. We had a blast though, dancing and just building and deconstructing my experiences in Cape Town, my perception and knowledge, sexuality, blackness, feminism, misogyny, she-ness, beauty, Western World, co-existence, fusion, repression, ignorance, boys, hot sex, education, love and love lost, reality, masculinity, traveling, African Diaspora, prospective great friendships, universal conspiracies, pain, progression, cancer, naivety, and the list goes on. After dropping Rhea off we went to Camps Bay Beach to watch the sunrise. Though the sun rose behind our heads over Table Mountain we watched the sky turn cotton candy blue and pink and listen to the tides crash into the sand. I took a power nap right before…because a brotha get sleep-ay! But in those last minutes before deciding to get in the car and drop me off to get ready for disembarkation Lerato walked off wearing my brown pashmina scarf that perfectly blended with with her denim skirt, Rhea and I sat in silence…I listened to my thoughts. I instantly thought about John Mayer’s song “3x5” that a friend introduced me to nearly 2 years ago who I recently spoke to after a disagreement months ago. The song talks about not taking pictures of travels, but about his appreciation for him being in the moment and when time permits he will write about it – if he feels like it. And I echoed his sentiments. I just took it in. Riding back to the ship we couldn’t get radio well, all static, so we sat in silence before Lerato started talking, again. It was great.

Goodness, I will have to write about S. Africa again, later.

Mauritius was great. I had such a great time. Keep in mind, I had NEVER heard of this place prior to looking into Semester at Sea – 7 months ago. We arrived at the time of the pilgrimage for the Hindu God Shiva. People were walking all over the island to Grand Bason to pay homage to the God. On the first day of embarkation I went to Grand Baie beach and was fortunate to meet a couple that owned a shop with an assortment of things from postcards to wraps. My goal is to always get to a spot that sells postcards so I can send them to my great grandma and school Union. So in the process of doing this I wanted to also eat some good ol Mauritian food which I heard was SUPER good. I learned previously that it’s a fusion of Afro/Indo/Chinese food. In the process, a young guy at the store started speaking to me in English after attempting creole and next thing you know a huge discussion was launched about my travels and what it’s like and so much more. I mentioned that I was interested in seeing Shiva at Grand Bason (there is a larger than life Shiva in the South of the island) and before you know it the couple invites me to go with them later that evening. Though I wasn’t scared, I questioned if I should be. I mean wouldn’t you? I sometimes wonder why I am so friendly. But it’s just me. But let me tell you – I am not a push over or fool. So don’t get it twisted. I believe the universe guides me. This is how I got to and around NYC, as well. So I take the Lena and Pietro Monaco upon their offer and agree to meet them at 11pm at the Waterfront near wear the ship is docked. I invited a friend, Liane, who I knew would love to go. But traveling for women can be tougher because things can happen. So I invited her around 10.30pm and she is super excited. She put her white on and look all Indian and stuff like that and stuff, m-hmm. And we wait and I call her from the water taxi phone and Lena is apologizing for running late, I guess CP time is CP around the world, OKAY? lol. Soon enough we see a van pull up across the street but we don’t go to it. Beneath our breath without looking at each other we are like “Don’t go because we don’t know if that’s her, let’s wait til someone gets out and flags us down or something. Hell, they know my name – it’s French. Andre is easy to remember. Shoot.” So after a standing and looking for all of 4 minutes she gets out and I swear you can see her pretty smile from across the street. The only problem is that there was a median and Liane would have to jump it – with a white skirt on – and she’s such a lady that it was not a good idea. But in the same breath she was with me and she knew I didn’t care, and she from DC, DC IN THE HOUSE!!! lol. So she jumps and we get the party started. We get in the van and see that this is a definitely a family affair. I mean we got a 4 row joint and every row is occupied with enough space for Liane and my cakes to sit. I didn’t realize that it was a little girl sitting next to me leaning on her mother asleep so I was all rough sitting down til I realized that was a butt bone. So I was like damn, this is gon be a long awkward ride. But I paid it and got over it, quickly.

The time was about 1am as we drove about an hour south. The car has Lena’s sister, cousins, son, husband, and friends in the car. The 2 younger ladies looked like they were about 15 and 16 years old. And man were they cool? We get in the car and say hi to everyone and they are just in their own worlds and hit me with a head nod indicating a “what’s up.” I thought it was so endearing. Which by the way, Mauritius is an island which is majority Indian (from India – a brotha gotta be clear) who were brought over and enslaved, as well as Africans. The French colonized, so did the Dutch, and the English, I believe (I would google it but internet cost and this is being typed in Microsoft Word…just open another window and google it). All I know is that it was so interesting, at first, to see Indians speaking French and Creole in a tropical setting. I said to myself “God, I have to commit my life to traveling and learning!” To see the many people trekking from all over the island – North, West, and East – to the South was amazing. They wore white. The people were of all ages. They carried gifts for Shiva and they were different sizes and beautiful. After being knocked in the car Liane and Lena tap me and tell me that we are almost there and I as I stuck my head lower so I could actually see through the front window I was in awe. Shiva was HUGE! It made me think of Statue of Liberty and Christ the Redeemer (Rio, Brazil). Incredible. But the “gotcha hon” is the fact that it was this kind of metallic gold or bronze, thus it really drew you in. It was gi-normous! And water spouted from the top of its head that was imported from The Ganges in India. I don’t practice Hinduism but I was so humbled and I looked around and took it all in. Lena and the fam allowed us to bear witness to their celebration and praises. I learned a lot. Thank you so much Lena and Pietro. All the way towards Shiva, on the path of the pilgrimage, there were rest stops for those participating. And before leaving we had a chance to go to a rest stop for some Chai Tea and Roti with Curry. IT WAS SO GOOD! While headed back to the ship to turn in for the night I didn’t go to sleep this time. I just looked at the miles and miles of green land being blown by the wind. The streets were empty and everyone else was sleep. I thought to myself “I am fuckin traveling the world…this is just the beginning – a snapshot.” No, a tear didn’t roll down my eye or anything – this isn’t a novel. But it hit me hard. I thought about how I am a survivor and how almost 3 years ago I didn’t think I would make it and this time in 2005 I was soooo sick. More to come.

There will be more to come, later. I am not done.
I just have to get to bed. I am not sleepy but I must rest.

Next, we are voyaging to India.

India is a huge country with a LOT of people.

Oh yeah…just had a thought. There will definitely be more about Mauritius to come. I had a great time. I didn’t do anything major. I just had a beautiful time. Mauritius is beautiful. I will never forget how many people, especially these young guys, didn’t believe that I wasn’t Mauritius because my name is Andre. Who’d of thunk it??? Lol. From what I know my father was named Andre after his sister’s boyfriend at the time. Thank you Aunt Elberia! Random as hell.

OH YEAH! Last thing, I promise. There are some songs that I swear are following me as I make footprints across the world and one in particular is “Love Is Gone” by David Guetta - Fred Rister and Joachim Garraud radio edit mix. I heard it first in Salvador at Carnaval and fell in love. I literally feel like I am dancing like a madd man behind the Fatboy Slim or (Fah-chehh Boy Slim-ay – Portuguese accent) everytime the beat dropped. I LIVE FOR THIS TRACK! It’s ssssooo good. I am getting into the fact that other places outside of the States appreciate an amazing and pulsating house and techno track. WORK!! I am listening to it now. This is aiding in my lack of sleepiness. Just get into it for me and let it take you over. *shaking head and singing “Noooooowwwww, that the lovvveee is goonneee” and anticipating the beat dropping…YYYYYYYEEESSSSSS* All I need is a Skol and Natalia and the fam! Live, Love, Laugh

A is for Always Andre

A is for Africa...

2008-02-17T22:13:00.003-05:00

For the record, it is 5 in the AM and I AM WIDE EYED AND AWAKE!!! I am almost in AFRICA!

"We do not have a sense of direct continuity. Our ancestors didn't pass down our stories, we've lost them and we have to go out and find them."

Dr. Spencer Wells, The Journey of Man: A Genetic Odyssey

And this is when it happens.
This is the moment where after trying to fall asleep –
Not enough cups of green tea or chamomile tea,
Talking about loves losses, love gains, love aspired, love unknown with Liane and Brittany,
After messing with Victoria who works the night shift at the front desk of the Purser’s Desk in Tymitz Square…
All of these things are only some of things that cause me not be in my sleep.
I have been trying to complete drain myself so I can sleep – BUT I CAN’T!
No, I am not sick.
I am not angry.
I am not…
Instead, I am just eager.
I sit outside of room 4128 which is the room of me, Andre Singleton, and Maxwell Miner (who by the way said it’s okay to be mentioned in my blog).
Max is a really cool dude.

So yeah, I am eager because I can’t believe that I am really about to be in Cape Town, South Africa.
I have such an array of feelings.
Hell, I am still trying to digest Salvador, Brazil.

Quick Story:

On the last day of being in Salvador I decided to get my clothes washed in the city versus the ship because it’s cheaper and I don’t have any money, really. Thus, I go to Pelorhino which is the Old City of Salvdador where you take an actual elevator to get to this upper level…yes, it’s all outside. It’s quite the breath taker. It’s five cents both ways to catch it = 5 cents to go up and 5 cents to come down. And the older city is really scenic and not just touristy but truly beautiful and historical. The connection with the Pelorhino and Bay area struck me tremendously with the history of enslavement of Africans. Like I said, this voyage is so much about identity. Ok, so I shall get back on subject. MY CLOTHES! It was around 2 pm-ish when I decided to take my clothes to get washed and the folks were really nice as I spoke a mix between Uptown Washington Heights Dominican Spanish mixed with San Diego Mexican Spanish blended with 2 days of pre-port Portuguese. I managed to get by with a smile from Maria who resembled a woman that I would have seen growing up in Kansas City, MO except she only spoke Portuguese. She told me to be back at 3.30 because they close at 4. I said cool. Thus, I went back to the lower city where the ship was docked so that I could get my money to pay for my load. Unfortunately, when I get back to the ship we are told that we can’t get on or off of the ship until the engine is done being checked, or some jazz like that…I just knew I was tired and I had to get my $ because it was only several hours before we left port to head to Cape Town. Finally, we are able to board the ship – I am not sure at the time how long it took because I didn’t wear a watch in Salvador. So I get to my room and get ready to exchange my American $ to the Brazilian Rehieis (sp?) only to get to the port Canbio (where currency is exchanged) only to see that they are CLOSED!

*I love the song that is playing, right now – “Andromeda & the Milky Way” by Me'Shell NdegéOcello. GOD, IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL! (sigh)*

Fortunately, I find a local bank and I make the exchange, again using my Portunol (Portuguese y Espanol). And as I pump to the elevator I am headed to the elevator, which now has a long line and this is when I realized time was just ticking away. I just look around and take in the fact that I am in Salvador. Next, I realize that I am up to the front of the line. I pay my 5 cents and show my appreciation to the teller who is collecting the money to get on the elevator with an “obrigado,” (thank you in Portuguese). Before I know it I am back in Pelorhino, but this time I am pumping it in my flip flips down the cobble stone street pass the scores of people bargaining for scarves and beaded necklaces from street vendors, and pass my God Sister!

“Andre!”

I literally stopped dead in my tracks. And those of you that personally know me know that I don’t play when I am walking – I am on a mission. But this greeting was so familiar, it was unlike the accents I have heard since like the states almost a month before. As I get closer and truly scan in through my prescribed red Ray Ban sunglasses, CLASSIC, I realize that it is Iyabo! Iyabo is the daughter of a really dear person in my life that has been around since I was a freshman in high school at Point Loma High School in San Diego, CA. She and I gave each other a big hug, and what did I do??? Yep, got distracted. I asked her for the time and it was 4:00 leaving me with no other option but to abruptly end the convo and tell her not to move. Within minutes I raced through streets only to get to the laundrymat where the lock and bar now replaced the space where Maria and I held the conversation about 2 hrs before. I knew at that moment that I just had to pay it. So I vented for a minute. I let out a couple of “Ain’t that some shit, FUCK, I be got DAMN, and concluded with a Fuck it!” By the time I got back to Iyabo she was looking at me as though I was crazy. She asked where my clothes were and I told her. And she was more irritated than I. That’s when I explained to her that it’s really not a big deal. Granted, I did have a couple of really cute American Apparel t-shirts, 7 jeans, Calvin Klein draws, and 3 pair of super nice swim trunks – speedos, and more. But I knew that no matter what I did that I was not getting the stuff back. I knew when I needed to get back. Whether the ship held me up or running into Iyabo, I knew that it was not serious enough to be upset and not enjoy my last hours before boarding the ship at 9p. I PAID IT, HONEY! M-hmm. And there was growth in it. And Iyabo, bless her heart got me some pants, couple shirts, speedos (oooh la la la), and a beautiful necklace and I am so grateful. It’s so funny how things happen because I know that had the series of events happen before I got up the elevator then I wouldn’t have run into Iyabo. I knew she would be in Brazil but I had not way of contacting her and here she finds me out of all of the black folks in Salvador. Absolutely Amazing! Thanks Ya! It’s all about reaction. My younger brother Jeron taught me that. So, thank you to Jeron.

And sadly, I don’t know if this woman wants me to write this but oh well, as I walk to the line a woman is walking – actually she is sashaying – towards the line. She looks really cute, I can’t even front. But before I know it she just EATS IT! And it wasn’t a flat out fall…it was more like a stumble, stumble, try and catch your fall, SLIDE, and SSSAAAFFFEEE!!! She got a home run. It was intense. And here I am standing in my white and gray striped tank top and gray basketball shorts, and thong sandals blending in so seriously. Hence, being the gentleman that I am *clears throat* I help her up and help her clean her turquoise pants and white blouse and she is soo happy. Don’t you know that she is just talking away and I have no idea what she is saying. Thus, I smile and say “sim” a lot, which means yeah. AWKARD MOMENT! As we finally make our way up to the front of the line she pays for my ride up. Hey! It may only seem like 5 cents but change is such an issue in Brazil. So I didn’t have to break R$1. Shortly, she realizes that I am really not talking much and she speaks Spanish and English to me. We laughed and that was it.

Ok, so maybe that story wasn’t as short as you imagined, but I had to share. That’s why I got this cotton pickin’ blog, anyway.

Ship life is quite interesting. Of course, it feels like it’s shrinking since folks really are getting to know each other. We had Neptune’s Day, which was actually on Valentine’s Day. Oh yeah, I have absolutely no concept of dates or time. Since we have class everyday I have no clue that I have classes on Saturday and/or Saturday. Neptune’s Day is when you cross the Equator. Traditionally, folks shave their heads. However, I didn’t do it because I am doing the opposite. I want to see how much hair I can grow between now and May. It’s difficult because I am used to being really groomed. But I don’t trust everybody’s clippers and the last thing I need is a fierce case of folliculitis! OK! That ain’t cute. Lol. I can’t go into details because I don’t want to ruin it for prospective SAS voyagers. I will put it like this, I participate in a lot of stuff…I am really festive but I didn’t partake. I was too sleepy. I get so tired from all of the rocking of the ship and working. So anyone chance I get to rest, you better know that I get my shut eye. Speaking of rocking – the Atlantic Ocean is NO JOKE! The entire time we have been sailing from Salvador to Cape Town I think about the Middle Passage/ Slave Trade. The fact that folks survived these conditions stacked and thrown on top of each other blows my mind. When I say that on Neptune’s Day that the ship was rocking and drawers were opening and closing, soap and shampoos falling from containers and smashing into the shower ground, dishes and cups falling and breaking in the dining hall, people dropping trays with food…I can’t lie I was laughing because it was all so funny, but it was wild. The ship was swaying. And the best part about all of it is that crew just went on about their business. One of the crew members told me that we haven’t seen anything. On a scale of 1-12 it was about a 6. I am so blown away to know that millions of African were brought over without Dromamine (sp?) and motion sickness patches, no beds and food, no comfortability at all…it fucks with me. This is my reality. My people really have been through a lot. I pay homage and am glad to be able to travel this without those harsh conditions.

In Cape Town, I am ssssooo looking forward to finding a way to get to Robben Island, Table Mountain, learning about District 6, going to Clifton # 3 beach, meet people and eat some amazing food…to say the least. I will also be going to a Jazz Safari. I am very interested to see how it will all pan out.

AFRICA HERE I COME!

And of course I am looking to check out some type of cancer center hopefully be in touch with CANSA, TAC, Malay Quarter, Baxter Theater, taste wine at Groot Constancia, and go to some museums near the Company Gardens, and we shall just see. Clearly, I make plans but the universe and higher powers conspire.

Oh yeah, thanks to a friend by the name of Perran we should be checking out
a conference: The Dream Deferred, Shattered or Redeemed?": Reflections on Thabo Mbeki post-Polokwane.

In conclusion, I was watching a movie tonight and I don’t remember exactly which film it was but there was one line of the movie that caught my eye and I just wanted to share they quote which is actually an African Proverb:

“When two elephants are fighting, the only thing really being hurt is the grass.” (something to that degree)

Just something to think about.

Baie Dankie (thank you in Zulu) – Sounds like “Buy uh Dunkey”
A

::A Note I Wrote Yesterday and thought I'd share::
I got that travelling the world with nothing to eat in the middle of the night, missing friends and family, no kisses and long conversations til I fall asleep blues.

You know - that using up my last few minutes to partake in globalization to post a bulletin on myspace and comment on friends pages that live in the united states blues.

I got that sailing in the middle of Atlantic Ocean blues. The kinda blues that makes me think about what it was like during the Middle Passage and Slave Trade blues. The sway and rocking of the ocean and makes me nauseas as it also puts me to sleep contradictive kinda blues.

That being on a ship full of all white girls and no brothas. Damn, this shit is deep. That kinda blues that Bessie, Anthony, Yolanda, Tracy, and Charlie can't sing or blow away. I got that I can't wait to get to Africa in 2 days blues. That blues that got my with a face full of hair and head, too.

But I wouldn't change it. I won't. I love it. I hate it. I am it. I live in a state of perplexity. 2 months away from celebrating 3 years of living after dying. I am learning to love me - with every quirk, blank mental moment, scars, bruises, discolored skin, fucked up nails and skin, inconsistency of taste buds all due to chemo. Owning my identiy.

A

Bahia, Africa

2008-02-09T10:55:00.000-05:00

Really.
That quickly...in the blink of an eye.
But not really, though.
What?
Departing from Salvador de Bahia, Brazil.
Its always tough for me to decide if I should write a blog entry or email folks. The emailing is challenging because there are so many things to say and folks to email. Thus, I remind myself that this voyage is not about staying connected like I am at home but to really breakaway, as much and as realistically, as possible. Come on now, of course I check my myspace and facebook as soon as I get on the computer, but I dont have the time or energy to really engage. I really check it to stay on top of any news or contacts for my next port.

Salvador, Salvador, Salvador...
From driking Guarana, Skol, eating fried cheese with oregano and honey on the beach in Barra at Porto - and catching the bus, not to be left out, eating açai with granola, cashews, and raisins...and truly working on my Portugese - I definitely feel like I am walking away with growth.

One of my goals is to truly travel the world, even after Semester at Sea and truly engage in as much cultural immersion, as possible.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to go to a few cancer centers in Salvador - NACCI (Nucleo Apoio Combate do Cancer Infantil) and NASPEC (Nucleo Assistencial Para Pessosas Com Cancer). I am fortunate to have been able to articulate this interst to our interport lecturer, Javier and he arranged it. I am going to try and see a center for cancer or a serious illness in each port - especially one centered around young folks, which these were. The children were fun and we really had a chance to vibe, despite the language barrier. Luckily, the spanish helps tremendously. Plus, with body language and Pedro (who is 11 and as charismatic and energetic as I am) things were fine. In addition, Paulinia who is battling osteo sarcom beat me in tic tac toe a few times...shes a beast with the x on the paper. Its wild how initially they were under the impression that i was just chilling with them until Ricardo who was the actual escort really translated everything - he told them and they didnt believe it. The kids and I shared scars from surgeries and non-healed scratch marks and pictures of me with no hair. The energy shifted. I am grateful. I dont know. Its hard to believe that this really is only the beginning of the semester still and I am working on making the Paris program happen. I can only take it one day at a time.

Well, my minutes are low. Next, we are headed to Cape Town, South Africa. I will write more later. Obviously, my whole writing my blog in Word first and then transferring has yet to manifest. I just write whats on my mind. Hell, this isnt a these...but who knows...one day it may be.

We set sail at 9p. Damn, back to class and work tomorrow. lol. I actually like my classes and work though, so I am fine.

Bon,
a

All I got is 15 minutes...

2008-02-06T18:40:00.000-05:00

You know what sucks?
The fact that I wrote a blog entry last night and it did not post.
Oh well, I let it go.
I seriously have less than 15 minutes, right now.

BRASIL IS AMAZING!!!

The ship got into port yesterday morning and I hit the ground running. Initially, I had a few folks that I was supposed to catch up with - and still will, but it was pandemonium just trying to gather my thoughts and the fact that I had just made it.

I am very glad to say that a young lady named Natalia has been so sweet and amazing. She and her family hosted me and invited me to CARNIVALE! Btw, if you have not been to Carnivale or know about it then google it. WOW! Thats all I have to say. Needless to say, I have yet to really sleep. I will elaborate more later. Also, I went to a Condemblé (sp?) ceremony and was truly amazed.

The African diaspora really draws me and calls my name. I am blown away by life and experiences. The fact that Brasil has the largest black population outside of Nigeria IN THE WORLD I am...man, I dont even know. The Black Experience. Oh yeah, I have also been learning my Portugese. I manage to mix my Spanish with it.

I hate to be abrupt but my minutes are about to expire. Oh yeah, I am in Pelourinho in Salvador - the upper part of the city. Its beautiful and full of history.

Tomorrow I am going to the Verger Foundation and will check out his work on the African Diaspora.

BLACK PEOPLE ARE BEAUTIFUL!

Minutes are gone.

Tchau,
A

Brasil....

2008-02-04T23:59:00.000-05:00

I can't write much because I don't have many minutes left for my internet.
So not cool.
But right now, I am on the 3rd deck sitting and being.
I am a few hours outside the port of Salvador de Bahia (Brazil).
AMAZING!
Things are going well.

Will write more later.

Best,
A

Man, I am in effin' Brazil! Wowness!

Chasing Summer...

2008-01-28T13:06:00.001-05:00

Ok. This has been quite a week. It caught me offguard when I just realized that this voyage has been under siege for 5 days.
Let me start from the beginning.

The ship is great. I have a cool roommate - my living situation was de-trippled. There are 730 students to be exact. Students are from EVERYWHERE! There are about 200 crew members that maintain the ship and we have about 30 faculty. I enjoy the food. The three designated meals a day is heaven. However, the first few days were really rough. I discovered my seasickness. The motion and unsteadiness made me so nauseaus. But because I had so much prior experience due to chemo I knew what to do - BE STILL! So when I wasn't working or in class I was in the bed.

*Random moment - Listening to "Again" by John Legend at a Starbucks in San Juan, Puerto RIco. Hey, gotta wireless internent *looks out the top of glasses. However, it isn't too hard to believe because Puerto Rico is a commonwealth of the US. I almost feel like I am in Cali.*

In addition, due to wearing flip flops on the ship I managed to cut my pinky toe. I already had a slight cut from carrying things and helping the other students get acclimated to the ship, somehow I slightly cut it. However, the first day after waking up and headed to our orientation meeting I managed to trip over a step we must have hit a wave or something - I hyperextended my toe by missing the step and cut it pretty deeply. That hurt. So I missed some of the meeting and have been nursing my toe for the past few days. Good times.

Jan. 23, 2008 - Seeing a tugboat support in moving from the Bahemian port to get started on the journey was so wild for 2 reasons.

Reason 1: I didn't know tugboats were real! I was really excited to see it. I hadn't even said the word tugboat since I was like 6 or 7, I think. The name of the little tugboat - well, it looked small from where I was on the 6th deck of the ship - MV Explorer. The majority of the students, if not all, were all standing outside bidding our farewells to the people standing at on dryland. There were tears, there were faces full of happiness. Some happy to embark upon seeing many cultures and meeting many people, some to get the hell away - period, some of mystery, and etc. The common denominatior is that we all looked out and knew that we have an interesting couple of months ahead of us. I mean it's so wild to now have to live with 800+ new people. Well, yeah, granted, some folks have made myspace friends, facebook, clubs from school, but nothing can really prepare you for the rest. Luckily, I knew of one friend through a friend. Her name is Liane and she is actually sitting right in front of me at Starbucks as I write this piece. Even better is that she lives like 4 doors down.

Reason 2: I have a window with my cabin - LOVE IT! It was truly remarkable to go to sleep to the ocean at your side and to wake up and see the ocean. And as I've mentioned I got motion sickness, in the same breath, the ocean made me feel like I was being rocked, como un bebe, and I slept soooo well. I can't help but realize the fact that there are like schools of fish beneath the ship as we sail. After being on the ship for a few days it took me by surprise that I wasn't stressed, but actually felt pretty good. Well, we did hit a few rough patches that had me reaching for the motion sickness patch with a quickness. But it all worked out. Thus, getting closer to San Juan, Puerto Rico I was really confused when we are docked and I get to leveled land and it feels weird. I guess I've partially grown my "sea legs."

The name of the blog came from listening to one of our admin folks during his speech. I loved it when he said that we will be chasing summer. The time thing is not hard but weird. It takes me a minute to realize what time it is when I email or try to call someone. My little phone card was docked so many minutes from calling from an international payphone.

While in port I had the opportunity to go on a full city tour of San Juan y Old San Juan. In addition, we had a welcome reception and had the fortune of interacting with students at Universidad Interamericana de Puerto Rico. I had a great time and had a great time speaking Spanish and dancing salsa and really having conversations about the academic experiences that parallel and don't.

Our next port of call is Salvador, Brazil. I am really looking forward. More to come.

I am just writing off of the top of my head, right now. I realized the best thing for me to do is to write things in Microsoft Word and then transfe when I get internet access.

Fortunately, I am one of the folks that greets the students when they come to port.

Well, I must packup and get ready to head back. We hit the seas again, tonight.

Less than a day away...

2008-01-22T22:08:00.000-05:00

Less than a complete day away before hitting the deep blue. This has been pretty cool so far. Since I am a work-study student I along with 20 other students the ship 2 days before to maek sure that learned our jobs and become acquainted with the ship. For the record, I will be on a ship - NOT A BOAT! Ok, just letting you know. Ok.

I am standing at a bar top table outside of a bar (that is closed for the evening) named Da Junkanoo Shack. The weather is nice and cool. I have on a sleeveless shirt and can feel the breeze running through my hai-...scalp. Since internet access is so limited on the ship and I am going to preserve my little 250 minutes - yes, for 4 months. So I was pumping through downtown Nassau trying to find wirless. Low and behold, I surely did. Come one now, you didn't think I would? I am from New York, son. I have been an assistant and Production Assistant for over 2 years which means that there is no such thing as not being able to do or find something. It should become even more interesting as time goes on and I arrive to other ports and am on the search. Can you see my pumping through Malaysia asking for an internet connect? WORK!

But things have been great. My work study job is in Student Life. It wil be fun. The job basically entails being in charge of student activities and interacting with the Residential DIrectors and making this as pleasant of a trip for everyone, as possible. While working with my other three SL folks - Izzy, Kedero, and Stacey, we thought about how it feels like we are student council, ASB, or The Prom Committee. Today just consisted of inventory. We played my ipod while we cleaned. I am so glad, right now. Honestly, all of the drama from health, stressors from school and work, $$$ issues, etc. were all worth it. I am here. Tonight as I ate dinner on the deck and overlooked the ocean in the Bahamas I just reflected on all of this. I applied in August

:::Please, pardon the interruption, you'll get used to them - But, I am also listening to my ipod as I type and stand and a song by Chaka Khan, Angel, has come on and it reminds me of my mother and grandmother. I LOVE THIS SONG! Oh goodness. I digress:::

and I was accepted on Sept 11 and from there I hit the ground running. I lost so much sleep, I didn't eat, I fucked up at school and work at times, and literally the list goes on. God, I can remember crying myself to sleep and being frustrated with being stricken with cancer and dealing with the residuals of chemo - years later. I felt so alone. There were folks that were so against my pursuit. However, I knew that this is something that I really want(ed) to do. It has been an intense several months. But when it's all said and done I AM HERE! I AM HERE! I AM HERE! I am about to embark upon something so amazing I can't articulate it. And I am not traveling with a sense of exoticizing and/or carnivalizing the countries, cities, people, etc. Instead, I am voyaging (notice VOYAGE AND NOT TRIP - hell, I take weekend TRIPS to DC and Boston, this is a VOYAGE, an ODYSSEY!) with a true sense of vulnerability and penetrable. Overall, this trip in so many words is about identity and how complex identity - and especially my identity is. Traveling as a black man from America, from Kansas City, MO and San Diego, CA, a fighter, a survivor, a queer person, college student, cultural commuter, spiritual, loving, delightfully naive, a son, a grandson, a brother, a New Yorker...the level of agency is infinite. The bottom line is that I am here and I am going. I will be - and as a professor told me "Andre just be sure to use all 5 senses" that is what I going to do. Child cheese (get used to me saying that - or nino queso or petit fomage; just means "child please." I say it randomly. Why? Because I am random. And that's okay because it's MMMMEEEEE!).

My roommates have not come in yet. Yes, that's plural. I know, I gagged, too. Well, I was hell bent on having a window, because I need to see the world. So I got an email earlier in the semester about having the opportunity to have a discounted rate on my room if am okay with an extra roommate. Inititally, I wasn't down with the movement. But I come on now, I live in NYC, I lived with my landlady for almost 2 years. It will work out. Though, I must admit that space is super tight. Again, it's not the end of the world. What is beyond cool about all of this is that because of health and sanitary reasons our rooms are cleaned for us. Well, our beds are straightened, cleans towels are replaced, and trash is emptied EVERYDAY! Chhhiiillddd, I am getting used to this, already. lol. It's really cool. Oh yeah, but I do need some air freshner and Febreze. So if you can help supply then drop me a line or hit up Semester at Sea and they can tell you the address for the port and how to go about sending it. Funds are still tight and everything is by DEBIT/CREDIT card. Oh no, I don't have it like that. So drop me a line if you down for routing some $ so I can get through singa816@yahoo.com. Semester at Sea - 1.800.854.0195.

I don't know how this will be tomorrow with the other 700 student boarding. And the fact that there are 3 black guys, including me - that I have seen from our listing of pics and named on a bulletin board, will be interesting. But it's all good, seriously. I am sure that they are just as happy to be here as I am.

:::Pardon the interruption - Kanye West "I Wonder" is my THEME SONG! And it just came on *bobbing head ridiculously hard*:::

Oh yeah, I was blown away when I realized that Bahemians drive on the left side of the road. So much to see in the world. Also, I am keeping my fingers crossed for everything to work out and be apart of program in Paris, France this summer where I will study Art, Literarture, and the Contemporary African Diaspora. Traveling and learning is so important me.

There really isn't too much more to say. Next on our agenda is Puerto Rico! QUE LINDO!

Well, I must end this. Folks are meeting up and this restaurant/night spot named Senor Frogs which is right by the port. I figure I can make it down and make an appearance *bats eyes.*

Damn, this is about to happen.

Until next time...

And the beat goes on...

2008-01-20T07:26:00.000-05:00

Good morning world,

Right now, I am sitting in the lobby of The Towne Hotel in Nassau, Bahamas,

Well, the journey has officially started. Before waking up about 30 minutes ago I hadn't been to sleep in like 35-37 hours from trying to get things together to make sure I was ready to leave, properly. And limping around the city wasn't the easiest - and at this point in my financial life cabs are against my religion. OK! I just can't do it, right now. I don't think folks realize how much this program really is! 22,000 + (get into the plus sign). Thus, I have been looking mighty Nicole Richieish. But I look good, though! I do.

Ok, all jokes aside. I seriously want to thank everyone that has supported me through this pre-journey. Thank you to the folks that will embark upon this journal whether browsing the internet, got the link from someone else, or maybe I meet you on this odyssey. But I really feel that it will do a lot. You will see me evolve. Thank you Eugene Lang College and my friends that are classmates - not classmates that I happen to think are cool within the confines of our seminars. You all have seen me GO THROUGH IT! And a special handful have prayed with/for me, fed me, bonded, laughed, and worked with me. Thanks to anyone that has ever make any copies of my many documents, proposals, news articles, etc. for me. I have so many things floating around in the world it's crazy. I am not going to turn this into an award acceptance speech, so it stops here.

I am about to eat my contiental breakfast, because I am hungry as hell.
Andrea who works at the front desk of Towne Hotel is a sweetheart. When I got into the hotel last night around 6p I had the worlds worst headache and I was pacing around in the lobby and she was under the impression that I was impatient but was so sweet. I had to explain to her that I didn't care about the wait I was just trying to relax - though pacing isn't quite relaxing, but to me it is, I digress. So she took care of me. And she told me to eat a conch salad. But I didn't have the energy to go to a spot named Fish Fry and get one. Instead I went to a place named Daily Grind and got a tuna melt on whole wheat (all about fiber) and salad (ruffage is imperative) and a bottled water (no explanation needed). Then I came back and crashed.

For the record, I actually board the ship on the 21st.

Stay tuned.

Oh jeez, I am really about to travel the world. That's real cute and stuff like that and stuff, m-hmm.

A

Rise and shine...

2008-01-16T07:38:00.000-05:00

I am back in action - well, kind of.
I am a few days away from the voyage. Right now, I am listening to Crystal Waters "Gypsy Woman (She's Homeless)." You know the song that goes "La dee dee la dee daaa..." Yeah, it's classic. For some odd reason this song makes me feel good.

Oddly enough, right before my trip I seem to get sick and hurt myself at work and have had to pretty much be on bed rest up until my trip. Fortunately, a few really good friends came over and helped me clean up and rub my back. I am not good at being sick. And I had a doctor checkup last night and one on Friday before I leave the states on Saturday. I am still in a little pain, right now but I am told that I should be fine before I leave.

I would write EVERYTHING that has gone on since my last posting in October, but I am not. Just keep up and you will see my journey to:

Nassau, Bahamas
San Juan, Puerto Rico
Salvador, Brazil
Cape Town, South Africa
Port Louis, Mauritius
Chennai, India
Penang, Malaysia
Ho Chih MInh City, Vietnam
Hong Kong
Shanghai, China
Kobe, Japan
Honolulu, Hawaii
Puntarenas, Costa Rica

Would right more but opioid has kicked in and I must rest. Don't worry - my writing will definitely be more cohesive as time progresses. This is just to get back into the swing of things.

Before I conclude I just want to urge you to be grateful for your health and NEVER take it for granted. I am so serious. I still face issues related to cancer - they're post cancer related. But more later.

Ciao,
A

Living in The Dash...

2007-10-19T07:54:00.000-04:00

I got back into town late last night. I am tired. I am a feeling a little under the weather, too. But it's all good because I am resting before I go to Atlanta, later today. It's been while since I have been on the campus of Morehouse College. In fact, the last time I was there I wasn't in the best of health conditions...in 2005. But I live to tell.

I had limitied access to internet while I was back home. And truth be told, it was good. I didn't have to worry about email, homework, It just gutted me to see my family hurting like that. But it was definitely good to see the Singleton side. I stayed with my cousin Ashley and she is such a sweet heart. She is definitely special to be able to deal with me.

Say what you want to say about me but I took my dirty clothes, well not dirty - just not clean - clothes to KC to wash. What??? It's about being resourceful! I don't have neither washer or drying in NYC. Shooootttt, might as well, right? Anyway, that is the only task that I had while I was in KC. Plus, I can do stuff like that because I am a college student. Lol.

It was raining badly earlier in the day of Phillip's funeral. I was at home by myself and was just thinking and shed a few tears about this whole idea of life....why we are here, what we do while we are here, how we impact others, and etc. Then the time came to get ready for the funeral. We were told to wear red and black. The gag for me is that the funeral home - Duane E. Harvey - where his services were held is right by my former high school. I drove pass that place EVERYDAY but it took me three years to notice it.

After living in NYC and trying to stay a float with things in my own life I rarely have a chance to even ponder on how time truly flies by. From the moment my cousin, Ashley, and I got to the end of the wake around 6.45p (funeral started at 7p) it was tripping me out to see family members. Well, I knew I was going to see them but a lot of them I hadn't seen in years, or should I say some hadn't seen me in years. Don't laugh but my nickname is Icky. Yes, I wasn't happy about that as a kid. But it's my fathers nickname so the honor was bestowed up on me - Lil'Icky. So on my father's side I am Lil'Icky, and my mother side I am Waynie. I am convinced that some folks don't even know who Andre is...no, it's true. And that is okay, because it's all love, m-hmm.

I digress.

So yeah, seeing younger cousins getting older just blew me away. It was definitely closure to see folks before I get ready to take this journey around the world in January.

I didn't go immediately to the casket once I got to the wake. I just didn't want to. From the angle I was sitting I could see his brown nose peek out of the top of the casket. That was enough, and I could barely even take that.

The first person that I was looking for was my Grandma Singleton aka "Dawtha Lee" as Ashley and I affectionately call her. Her name is Dorothy and she is EVERYTHING!. This woman cracks me up. I really didn't know the Singleton's growing up. But I have made the step to changing that in my adulthood. So she and I have spoken more over the few years and especially recently - thank God before Phillip's death (he's my first cousin - 29 years old). So as I walked into the sea of red I scanned the room then I spotted her. She looked great - black silk skirt, black blouse, and red blazer - she was giving me Mother at the the church.

"Lil'Icky, I am so happy to see you BOY! You don't know how happy I am to have you here with us. Gimme a big ol kiss," she says with the biggest smile in the world.

And I feel at home hugging her. If anyone knows me then they that I love my grandmothers. So she and I sat and talked for a minute. We were trying to keep an eye out on the next generation of Singleton's - Amauri and Roger (one and two years old) as they seemed to glide around the church pews. The more I looked at her the more I could see where I get my smile. Like, I have been told that I look like her, but for me to see it myself made the world of a difference. And she asked about school and work and NYC. Then she went on to give me her blessings to do my Semester at Sea...but she called it "The On The School Boat Thang." Endearing, right? *sigh* Shortly thereafter I camouflauged with the Singleton's sitting in the first 4 rows, wearing red and black.

As the sermon started I ain't gon lie, I was like "Please, don't let this preacher give me too much. I am seriously not in the mood...spare me." But I had to ease down and allow myself to be receptive to whatever will be said...I never know what I can gain. And I am glad that I took this approach. Aside from the belting scriptures overzealously, which was to be expected, I got a powerful enligtening. He spoke about "The Dash" in between the year of birth and the year of death. You know like:

Johnny H. Fuzznuts
1965 - 2006
Lived, Loved, and Laughed

Ok, get it, got it, good! So to have your entire life summed up between two years. But more importantly, the dash represents everything in your lifetime. This isn't a bad thing - just a summation. And YOU determine what's in the dash. From ashes to dust...

The thing that just brought it to a screeching halt was when the sista sang "Walk Around Heaven."During this I sat beside my cousin Ashley and some young lady I had NO idea who she was but she was bawling. Baby, I felt the tears just stream down my face. I just rubbed the young lady's back and wrapped my arm around Ashley and rubber her right arm. That was heavy, I mean damn.

And they closed the casket. RIP Cuzzo

Shortly thereafter Ashley and I went to Couzins Catish - that's some good fish, yaw. And I saw an old friend, Ms. Krystal Mosby aka Tanka. She was hilarious. I forgot that when I left KC I had locs - chemo took them out. But she had no idea how exhausted I was. As they were frying the catfish I was watching Bill Cosby on Oprah. It was one particular line that I took in and that's when the LEGENDARY MOTHA OPRAH of the HOUSE OF HARPO says -

"Hurt people hurt people."

YOU BETTER BRING IT! It's so true. Guns don't kill people, people kill people. We really have to value life and each other. I mean it. And I couldn't help but think about a lot of the work that I have done and being on a board that works for the betterment of gay black and latino men - HIV/AIDS outreach. I can't help but think about the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Yes, epidemic because that's what it is. And the fact that it is hitting hard with the people of color. In many instances these are people that are hurt - be it from self loathing from identity, or who knows, but it is disturbing and painful to witness this. Thus, I urge people to be get the help you need. Condoms, clinics, STD test, THERAPY - these things aren't taboo. Break the cycle.

And before I conclude this...because my finger are getting tired, I just want to mention that I am happy to have seen my nephew. He turned a month old yesterday and is gorgeous! Great genes. Also, I saw my great-grandma. I love her DOWN. She's turning 90 in Dec. Good stuff.

Well, the latest on my Semester at Sea is that I need $7,600 to make this trip happen. $12,000 has been met. Hit me up at singa816@yahoo.com if you are interested in helping in someway. Again, this blog will capture the before, during, and after of this international voyage.

Ciao beatutiful folks,
A

I can't wait to sky dive *sigh*

One of my main goals in life...

2007-10-16T08:53:00.000-04:00

Is to never feel like a victim.
Instead, always use that experience/situation as growth and empowerment.
How?
We shall see.

A

I may be down sometimes...

2007-10-16T08:13:00.000-04:00

but I won't be down always.
- Sounds of Blackness

You don't remember Sounds of Blackness? For real? Child, you better stop playing. Sounds of Blackness me straight back to my childhood. I can clearly remember when I was around 8 years old and my mother, step-father, brother, and I went to the airport to pick up my grandma from the airport - which seem SO FAR when I was younger in Kansas City. I am talking about I was asking to bring pillows and blankets in the car because it felt like a SERIOUS PUMP! But now, I live in NYC and that's nowhere near Kansas City, Muh-zoor-uh! I digress. So yeah, I remember it clearly hearing -

I just needed this motivational music in my life. School has me stressed, working has me stressed, health has me stressed, people are TRYING to have me stressed, and I just had to take a step back. My flight leaves at noon for Kansas City so I can go to my cousin's funeral. So yeah, I am not packed. Hey hey hey...but I am feeling a lot better. It will be good to see my family which I haven't seen in a while. Not to mention, I went back to my therapist last name, it's been a while. Why am I sharing my business? Because as you will see, I am so EVERY aspect of health, and in this repressive and supressive (sp?) society it is muy importante to release. So I felt/feel more hopeful about many things in/about life. Shortly, after leaving my therapist I went to Barnes and Noble to get a book before I go to KC and I run into Mos Def at the Barnes and Noble on 23rd and 6th Ave. We had crossed paths before. But it was good to actually touch base. I told him about the work I have been doing (Production Assistant for Miracle at St. Anna's) and about to make this international thing happen. So I am going to keep him and others in the know, as well. To be real, those that are willing to invest will not be disappointed in what will result of aiding my voyage around the world. I will right more, later.

Now, I am about to get myself together. I have to make sure that I pack my Spanish homework and work for my Annetoted Bibliography - baby, I am just as lost as you with the latter assignment. But it will be FFFFFIIIIIEEERRRCCCCEEEE when I figure it out....YYYYEEESSS!!!!

Many embraces,
A

Sunscreen by Baz Luhrman

2007-10-14T20:50:00.000-04:00

This is a song/speech that gets me through A LOT! You will more than likely see me reference it in the future...

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’97
Wear sunscreen

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The longterm benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked….You’re not as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you

Sing

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss

Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body,
use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..

Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

(Brother and sister together we'll make it through Someday your spirit will take you and guide you there I know you've been hurting, and I know I've been waiting to be there for you. And I'll be there, just tell me now, whenever I can. Everybody's free.)

Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who
supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of
fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the
ugly parts and recycling it for more than
it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen…

(Brother and sister together we'll make it through
Someday your spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurting, and I know I've been waiting to be there
for you. And I'll be there, just tell me now, whenever I can.
Everybody's free.)

A week(end) to remember...

2007-10-14T20:23:00.000-04:00

Well, things haven't gone exactly as planned - and that's okay. This was a really really really rough week. From getting papers back from professors and not doing as well as I imagined. Not to mention I had to mail out more Semester at Sea prospective sponsorship letters and scholarships. But I really feel that things will work it. I really have to stick it out. With the weather and everything changing it definitely changes my morale.

Unfortunately, on top of all of the rough stuff I got word that my cousin, Phillip, in Kansas City, MO was killed on Wed. I was definitely caught off guard and am still numb. I am trying to push through and write these papers and do homework but it's hard. I don't know. I feel overwhelmed, right now. And I am doing my best to get a ticket to KC.

Today I received a donation from my friend Bator for my Semester at Sea! One step closer! That $50 will go a long way. And it was cool to sit and actually rap with her about everything in our lives. I honestly hated to see her leave, maybe that meant that I would have to face the death of my cousin - or just the sheer fact of mortality and that I am indeed mortal. Much to think about.

But I am going to do my best to stay on top of this blog. Well, I know I will crank it, soon. I am just trying to adjust. In addition, I am working on so many things and this is a tool to help make my fund raising portion easier. Also, it will be my way of truly documenting this global experience...

I AM GOING INTERNATIONAL!!!

And watch...EVEN THE BLOG WILL GET BETTER.

*sigh*

Stay tuned.

A

Who Will Cry For The Little Boy?

2007-10-10T10:32:00.000-04:00

Who will cry for the little boy?
Lost and all alone.
Who will cry for the little boy?
Abandoned without his own?

Who will cry for the little boy?
He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy?
He never had for keeps.

Who will cry for the little boy?
He walked the burning sand.
Who will cry for the little boy?
The boy inside the man.

Who will cry for the little boy?
Who knows well hurt and pain.
Who will cry for the little boy?
He died again and again.

Who will cry for the little boy?
A good boy he tried to be.
Who will cry for the little boy?
Who cries inside of me?

-Antwoine Fisher (the movie)

This piece (poem and movie) is powerful

Just something special to me. I will never forget this poem. Right now, I am tired and waiting to speak with a professor about a paper. In the meantime, i will do my Spanish homework and I get my physical today for the medical history info, re: Semester at Sea.

I am trying not to say that I am tired...but I am. It is what it is.

Ciao,
A

Salutations...

2007-10-09T21:08:00.001-04:00

Greetings,

It is a pleasure that I welcome you to my journey.
Journey?
Yes, watch the entire process of me getting squared away to travel the world -

Nassau, Bahamas
San Juan, Puerto Rico
Salvador, Brazil
Cape Town, South Africa
Port Louis, Mauritius
Cochin, India
Yangon, Myanmar
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
Hong Kong
Shanghai, China
Kobe, Japan
Honolulu, Hawaii
Puntarenas, Costa Rica
**Transit Panama Canal**
Ft. Lauderdale, FL

Amazing, right? I know. Well, yeah it ain't easy!

My life is a balancing act - full-time school, work, and Semester at Sea. All on my own. I grind it out in NYC, but hail from Kansas City, MO. However, I raised hell in San Diego, CA and Atlanta, GA, as well.

This is just a brief introduction. Stay tuned.

Oh yeah, this is also a way that I am raising funds to make this voyage a reality. To see more info on my actual program go to semesteratsea.com I am a part of the Spring 2008 Voyage.

Must get back to applying for scholarships, doing spanish homework, writing sponsorship letters, and trying not to fall asleep.

Ciao,
Andrezinho