Monkeying around at work

I am sailing on a small ship on a vast ocean, but I do have an audience of almost 1000 people receiving the Deans’ Memo each day.  My boss is busy enough that most days he gives it a cursory scan at best, and the actual Deans almost never have any input for it.  Like so many other writing projects in my life, I wonder from time to time if anyone at all bothers to read it.  Today, I found out that they did.  Most likely while they are supposed to be paying attention in class, but, yes, they are reading the Deans’ Memo.

I am not fond of April Fool’s jokes, mostly because I always fall for them.  Also because I am not that great at thinking them up.  Since I am sailing with people who have swallowed some amazingly dumb stuff (my favorite is still the rope line across the International Date Line), it shouldn’t have been that hard, but I decided to go with a puzzle.  As a little plug for the fundraising campaign we’re in the middle of, I did a puzzle where the first letters of each of the announcement titles spelled out “GIVE SAS MONEY.”  This required some deviation from the usual format, since the second section usually starts with a date, and some weird titles, like “Variations on a Theme” for a talk about the 14 Dalai Lamas. 

The last announcement was “$13 for ice cream??” and it said there was a hidden message in the Deans’ Memo and the first one to heed it would win an ice cream cone.  (Because it’s 2013, they are asking for donations in increments of $13.)

Within 5 minutes of my sending the DM out by email, I had the first correct responses.    I got about 20 correct responses--and about 5 emails pointing out dumb mistakes, to which I replied, “We have those every day.”   There were a few people who picked up on things in plain sight as “hidden” messages, and some who questioned $13 for ice cream.  My favorite email said this:

>>I'm not sure if this is the actual message or just a weird coincidence but the first letter of each line in each paragraph spells out G-I-V-E    S-A-S     M-O-N-E-Y>>

I wrote back, “Ohmigod, that IS weird!  Must have been monkeys at my typewriter while I was at lunch.”  I mean, really?  That would be a pretty remarkable coincidence.

But no one was “heeding” the message, just solving the problem.  I sent out emails hinting they weren’t done until they followed the directions.  Got more specific.  Finally, a student came to my office, hungry enough for ice cream to go find the alumni coordinator and pledge.  She chose chocolate.

As part of the shipboard drive, we’re having an auction.  I offered my house for Finals weekend in some year other than this one.  A UVA undergrad snapped it up for the price of one weekend night at the Omni, corporate rate. The Deans' Memo book has turned into two, because two friends had their hearts set on it.

It’s always amazing to me what people pay for.  Dinner with the Captain is going for the same price as dinner without the Captain. A children’s book signed by Desmond Tutu will cost someone $450.  A week in a beach apartment in Ecuador costs less than $100 per person, but a 4 night stay in a British Columbia ski resort (owned by the Dean) was about 15 times that. 

I am unlikely to return to Semester at Sea, but if I do, I know what I’m filling my luggage with.  Girl Scout cookies went for about $25 a box.

This adorable family of monkeys is made from socks bought in ports around the world.  Today’s Birthday Boy will no doubt be relieved to know they will not be coming home with me.

I have, however, stocked up elsewhere.  Life should not be entirely without surprises.

Aging Aquarius

Doc Micah started us off in Hawaii with “The Volcano Song,” a little ditty his children sang in preschool.  He got his three sons, ages 9-15, to sing it in front of an audience of 500 people, an impressive feat.  We had a parody of “Call me maybe” before Japan, sung by the Resident Directors, struggling to keep their footing as we fought our way through hurricane force winds.  (If we had one before China, it escapes me at the moment.)  Here, for your enjoyment, the words to “Malaria,” sung to the tune of “Aquarius.”

When the moon comes out in Vietnam
And nights are sweltering hot,
Then bugs shall rule the planet,
And all of us begin to swat! 

It is at dawn and dusk we think of malaria
Don’t let it scare-y ya
Malaria!
Malaria! 

Malarone and doxycycline.
Larium is not exciting.
Use your netting while you’re sleeping
Wear long sleeves while bugs are leaping
Use your DEET when skin’s revealing
Stay in at night!
Malaria!
Malaria! 

When the food is looking tasty,
And water seems so clear
Beware, it might be nasty
And mi-ight come out your rear! 

So in the dawn you might wake up with diarrhea-ea
Doc Mike will have to see-ee ya
Diarrhea! 
Diarrhea!

Sympathy is notwithstanding
Roommate not too understanding
Keep yourself up off the toilet
It is best if you can boil it
Wash your hands while on your pub crawl
And take pepto! Pepto Bi-ismol!
Pepto Bismol!
Pepto Bismol! 

The saloon turns to a party house.
And you and her have gone too far.
Be sure to use a condom,
And keep out of her boudoir! 

This is the time that you should think about STD’s
Not drink ‘til you’re on your knees
Delirious!
Precarious!
Hilarious!
Malaria!

Growing up, Aquarius (the end of January and beginning of February) was a big deal, with three birthdays, my parent’s anniversary, and Valentine’s Day, all packed into less than three weeks.  From far away Viet Nam, I send greetings today to my dear sister Ellen, who celebrates her birthday today.  XOXOXO

Tokyo Time

A day that starts with an earthquake and ends with a birthday party:  stay flexible and enjoy what comes your way!

I slept through the earthquake, and so did Yoshiko, but it woke Kaji up.  According to the earthquake tracker, it was a 5.1 magnitude quake north of here.  Welcome to the Pacific Rim.  

My first night, Yoshiko planned a schedule for each of my days here, in each case sticking to one subway or train line so that I can use a one-day pass for unlimited travel.  Tokyo has lots of lines which connect, but you have to pay separately for each.  Residents have the equivalent of the US EZ Pass, which lets them swipe their way through the gates.  The single day pass works much the same way.

Today was my Hibiya day.  Parks, shopping, temples and lots of walking.  Armed with a tourist booklet, Yoshiko's game plan, and a map of the system, I set off.  First stop, Tsujiki.  The plan was for the fish market, but I stopped off at a Buddhist temple on the way.  This incarnation of it was built in the 1930s, after the original was lost to fire and the replacement to earthquake.  It looks like the land , which was reclaimed from the sea, has now been reclaimed as a parking lot.  There were several tour buses there, but not enough people to fill them.

At the fish market, I wandered through the general market area for quite a while, finding out later that I had missed the fish market entirely.  By the time I figured out where it was, everyone was packing up for the day.  I couldn't figure out what was samples and what was food for bulk purchase, and did not see people helping themselves to samples, so much of the food remains a mystery to me.  One helpful vendor saw me looking at light brown, dried tablets and told me what they were, but I heard "scarabs" instead of "scallops."  I was ready to believe either one, but they were pretty clearly scallops.

I am very challenged in my sense of direction, the wrong way when I leave a store, so I had a happy time wandering the alleyways with only a vague idea of where I was.  Fortunately, Tokyo has a lot of city maps in the areas tourists frequent, so you can readjust and find a subway fairly easily.

After the fish market, I made stops by Hibiya Park, the government buildings, the Imperial Palace, the Tokyo Sky Tower, and a high end shopping mall/residence area.  I ran into three different groups from Semester at Sea, so I guess I was hitting the high points of Tokyo.

I found this statue in Hibiya Park, which is Tokyo's first "western style" park.  I guess that's why Romulus and Remus are making an appearance.

It looked like a lotto game to me.

My challenge for the day was getting some food.  Yoshiko left so much for breakfast that I wound up eating some of it for lunch, but I was determined to eat dinner out.  Yoshiko recommended Ueno, so I took the subway there.  Lots of restaurants have picture menus, and some even have plastic models of the food.  It is still pretty hard to tell what you're getting, but I am not a fussy eater.  So I picked out a restaurant and I picked out a dish, but I failed to notice that you have to first buy a ticket for your meal.  There's a vending machine at the front of the restaurant, where you choose and pay for your food.  Then you give your ticket to the proprietor, and he brings your food.  The table has hot stuff and hotter stuff on it, as well as water.  (Pickled ginger--it looked like carrots, but it was labeled ginger--and something that just had a skull and crossbones on the label.  I think the ginger was the hotter of the two.)

What I ate

I came home around 7, and the subway was packed with people.  I shoved myself in and spent the whole ride wedged between the crowd and the door.  I don't know how anyone could have gotten through the crowd to get off, and I don't think anyone did until the major transfer point.  Even then, the local was standing room only.

After you are about 6, it's bad form to tell people it's your birthday, so I wouldn't have mentioned it to Yoshiko and Kaji.  But when Kaji made my reservation for the bus, he had to give my age, so the word was out.  Because of this, Yoshiko arranged a party for my birthday eve.  She found a birthday hat with candles, and the bought a cake.  She and Kaji sang happy birthday and gave me a present of a wallet for my travels.  It was lovely to be remembered!  Then Kaji posted the pictures to my Facebook page, so all my friends back home had ample warning to send their hood wishes as well.  Happy birthday to me, my first one celebrated outside of the US.