I overheard myself saying to the onboard fitness instructor, who also happens to be my good friend, Nick: “You know what, I realise that I’m only happy when I’m a little tipsy. That’s why you often find me in the grumpiest in the morning and happiest in the Crew Bar.” Seems like these days, life on the ship becomes more bearable when I have a glass of Jagermeister by my side. My choice of drink for the night varies. From bubbly champagne to tequila shots, from a Jack Daniels to a Ramazotti, a glass or a bottle of alcohol isn’t expensive at all, especially when crew gets 50% off all drinks. Furthermore, if I have an allowance of 150 Euros each month to drink in the passenger’s lounge. That’s where I’d take good old Nick, a Chesterfield (UK) lad of Canton origin, Niki, the Hong Kong beautician from the spa, and crazy Silvia from the most devious part of Italy and spend my allowance on them. After all, what use is of a good drink without good company?

Getting wasted with Sam, my hostel roommate in Hanoi Spirit House

I started to wonder my indulgence in alcohol, the source of my boredom and of course, where did I start this keen enthusiasm in alcohol consumption. It’s obvious that the constricting life on board may be one of the reasons why alcohol provides my brain a free reign of pleasure while the where….where did I start..made me trace back to the crazy bar (as Kathrin would call it the Wunderbar) beneath Hanoi Spirit House….while I was a mere amateur in drinking. Good memories those..ah…and guys, you are all guilty of molding me into being an alcoholic! I’m serious !!

So, from Hanoi to Bangkok and then Amsterdam and then Italy and now moving around the seas of South East Asia, I don’t think I’ve stopped drinking! Everyone’s amazed on how this puny girl can take her liquour! Gone were the days where I was found sprawled over the toilet floor or puking all over the bar…nay, I’ve progressed. Amazing. And these few months, I’ve been alive and well, still working on the Italian passenger cruiseliner.

Getting wasted on board with Moreno (guitarist) and Roberto (pianist)

I am still getting used to the idea of being a teacher but surprisingly, I don’t do too bad. Infact if there’s anything that I could find joy in, in my job, is the teaching part. The rest like working under an Italian management or socialising within this tight network of freaks and sailing weirdos, sucks. Really. I miss those travelling days where I could bump into 5 people and 4 out of the 5 turn out to be the friends that I’d travel forever. On this ship, everyone’s idea of the world and their interaction with their surroundings are the exact of those that I’d find in big companies all over the world. Be it South Americans, Philipinos, Italians, Spanish or Chinese, they think that just because they hang around 10km within the port’s vicinity means they’ve seen the country. They spit prejudices and conclusions that are hardly anywhere near the truth! They’re hardly curious or keen to find out anything else. And you would think, working on a ship, with such varied personalities from all over the world will cultivate this sense of multicultural mindedness. Wrong! It’s the same story again and again-the Italians stick within their own groups;the Chinese, Chinese; Spanish, Spanish..etc. It’s sad to feel so totally unaccepted by a group of people just because you don’t speak their language or share their culture. I cannot even begin to tell you how difficult it is to make friends. No wonder those who tried and failed, now retreat back to their paisanos (countrymen) or became jaded about friendships onboard. It’s a shame that every friendship here is formed based on convenience or with a basis of benefit. As a girl, especially one like me, who enjoys hanging out with the boys, gets the hardest time. They don’t seem to grasp the concept that just because I asked them out to the beach with me doesn’t mean that the invitation would extend to my cabin at night. Must be the doldrums that made their mind overtly imaginative! And whenever I refuse their sexual advances, they would stop talking to me the very next day. It’s a strange world, I tell you.

Having said that, sane and normal people are hard to come by. And if they do, you’d have to learn to cope up with them when they leave once their contract ends. And then, you come to ponder about the concept of impermanence and its wisdom. Like the other day, when a guitarist friend of mine, Fausto, left for his home in Milan, I almost cried. Another precious one leaving. His spirituality and sincerity has always left me gaping in amazement. Someone so Italian yet so zen.

There aren’t many times when I didn’t think of just throwing in the towel and disembarking myself. It can get so stifling, so imprisoning, so depressing. Steve, the guy who introduced me to this job, apologized in one of his emails, stating specifically that he’s sorry if the ship life has corrupted my soul. After 9 months of being on another ship, he’s now a free man, walking the way of a vagabond in The Dark Continent-South Africa. And if anything else, freedom means something indeed, after being on the ship!

Just the other day, I had a tiff with my Hotel Director. I totally don’t get the guy-who at first think my position is a joke-made me carry out duties like embarkation and immigration stuff just because he thinks I’ve nothing to do-and then later these days, keeps appearing in my office in the wee hours of the morning, demanding I start. Thus, even though if I don’t work physically for 11 hours, my brain is always on work! From the minute you get up and walk out of your cabin, you’re reminded that you have a job to do and you have to do it. Even at 1am, when you want to retire for the day, you still feel guilty for watching DVDs or just hanging out at the Crew Bar. If anything, I feel like I’m living in an island of fear. The vessel is the epitome of Foucault’s Panoptican. Don’t do anything wrong, else security will get you. Don’t do your work and Hotel Director will kick you off. Don’t get on the wrong side of the captain else he’ll also kick you off. Don’t do port manning and they’ll issue you a warning. Use the wrong entries or exits and you may get fine. Fear, fear, fear.

Well, who would have thought, a dream job would turn into a nightmare? On the other hand, being a Crew Lecturer entitles me to a single cabin, and being alone in my cabin does inspire me to turn to pen and paper to express myself. I’ve also been reading tonnes of books and watching a dozen of DVDs. Also been picking up some Italian and Spanish.My Italian vocabulary is no longer limited to swear words and I can carry off a basic conversation with an old Italian signora.

Travelling is also an illusion while working on the ship. Those who proclaim themselves well-travelled after being on the ship for a long time should be ashamed of themselves. Most of these people just get off the ports and go shopping..all they do is hop from one bar to another, one shopping arcade to another, take some photographs, haggle with the local store owners and then return with their trophies and postcards. This bunch of people are unusually narrow minded and boring. They would be the ones who would pooh pooh about a place, sharing with everyone their limited experiences and then claim the country to be as they see it. If there’s anything else I’d like to do, is to shove these people overboard.

Allora- I must be accumulating a lot of bad karma by now since I do nothing but diss my colleagues the whole day. If tomorrow’s sea is rough, I’d know that I’ve evoked their wrath.

I bid everyone adieu, goodnight and when I’m done with this contract, I’ll come around and visit you guys again. Meanwhile, have fun wherever you are and be good.

xxxxx
Ying