China

Hong Kong and Shanghai are all I've seen.

Bali Bags: for sale

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Contact me at stephanie.holcombe@gmail. if interested in buying.

Silk Making

Both wearing the finest silk in the comfort of dinner parties or wallowing in deep silk sheets seem to divert the laborious process from the luxurious end result. Making silk requires not only the countless numbers of worms to be boiled and killed for the cocoon, but also endless hours spent by women in small shops, dusty conditions and poor wages to result in one roll of silk. I was fortunate to witness this process in a small village in Viet Nam. It was quite remarkable and I'll share it here

Worms spin their cocoon for several months on bamboo trays such as this. 

The cocoons are then placed in hot water to kill the worm and soften the silk, allowing it to easily be threaded off.

The quality of the silk comes in here. Older cocoons make for 2nd and 3rd grade quality

The silk is then threaded upwards in the machines which unravels the cocoons and places on a large loom.

These large rolls are then placed on a loom and threaded like any fabric.

Patterned guides like these then enable the machine to punch out patterns into a design.

Resulting in this.

Creative Messaging in Viet Nam

Whether it be misspelled signs or euphemisms (in translation), I loved Vietnamese messages. Cheapest form of entertainment possible!

Viet Nam!

By the time we arrived to Viet Nam, I was back in the swing of things: backpacks, overnight buses and hostels. I had such a fantastic time in this country. Viet Nam Rocks! I met some really special people, who helped shape my ideas about communism, the Viet Nam war and refugees -- like no history book ever has. Viet Nam definitely isn't all North Face knock off's, "crack coffee" and cheap men's suits -- although there is alot of that. The people have a rich history and (from what I saw on the back of a motorbike) the countryside is really beautiful. (Crack Coffee was a substance unto itself. THICK, SWEET condensed milk is added to rich, dark coffee as part of the normal routine. It completely was addictive to some, but I couldn't drink it. We coined it "crack coffee" on the ship for those who loved the sweet taste & drank their weight in it when we were there.)

We docked in Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon. (After the war was over and the Northern communist troops took over Saigon, they declared the new name.) Many of the older Vietnamese from the South still refer to their home as Saigon - political correctness aside.


I went with a group of girls to Dalat, a small heavily French influenced village up in the mountains. We hoped to find bakeries and wine galore, but unfortunately didn't find much of either. Instead, we found a wonderful place to stay with glorious breakfast spreads each morning (my favorite!) and the original group of biker-guides in the city. The day spent on the back of these mens' bikes was a highlight for me.

Ah, Pho...one of the best meals I had all voyage. Completely unexpected.

Crazy Vietnamese rice stalls.

I heart markets!

I fortunately straddled up behind the leader of the group. His English was impeccable and by the end of the day, we were the best of friends. He had me laughing my head off while zooming through the beautiful countryside. His commentary on communism - from the inside - taught me so much. We had incredibly complex conversations through helmets about war and religion, peace and Americans. It was an amazing day!

Discards of removing silk from cocoons.

He took us to a silk factory where I was mesmerized with the process of moth to roll of silk . Lines of women work long hours each day in this extremely labor intensive process. (more on this later!) We stopped at coffee plantations, went on hikes, had dinner as a group at a local restaurant and visited a small, indigenous village down a side road. All of it was local, real and authentic. Viet Nam was a highlight for most; great place!

However, a low point in this port was that we lost a student here. It was a student on the ship who was found dead in his cabin. The grieving and mourning throughout the community aboard was something unlike anything I'd ever witnessed in such mass. I am accustomed to death (through working with many deaths through my job) but many of these students were not. It was certainly a defining moment for all of us aboard.

We had a beautiful ceremony the week after, completed with a maritime tradition of casting flowers into the sea. None of the pictures or videos are appropriate to post online...but, all to say, it was something special and I'll never forget any of it.

Contemplating Indulgence.

I hated to leave the beautiful people and country of India - my heart is truly there. But alas...time marches on.

Our next port was the nation-state of Singapore: Such a contrast to India! By the time we arrived in Singapore, I hadn't hit my 'travel stride' again yet. All I remember of Singapore is shopping and clean streets and big buildings and efficiency everywhere. It was nice to have familiar conveniences again -- easy access to good/safe food, coffee shops (1st iced coffee of the trip!), air conditioning and the feeling of being clean all the time -- but quite indulgent to say the least. I liked Singapore...but it brought out the consumer in me, which is not my natural state. I felt kind of icky. The culture of Singapore is quite consumptive (as is America's) and it felt wrong to fall into those patterns so easily, not to mention disappointing. (This is my own personal hang-up, not a judgmental statement)

One of the biggest differences  was how busy everyone seemed to be. With the economy being stronger than any place we had been thus far, everyone felt too busy or too focused to stop and interact with a stranger. In comparison to Ghana or Morocco or India, where unemployment is higher, people literally have more "time" to be friendly. Does this mean I think people are nicer in weaker countries? not really. But, I certainly noticed a stark difference in mindsets. It was a good lesson for me as I arrange my life into what makes me feel the best. Being in a place where people are too busy for much of anything is not a good feeling.

Singapore is interesting. It gets a bad rap for the canning of the American student in 1994, and that is what most people talked about as we arrived -- that and the other strict laws that govern their country... and everyone that visits.  (It was HIGHLY impressed upon the students not to be a public drunk here!)

Great things I will remember and what I learned: chewing gum is illegal (everything is so amazingly clean!), fresh squeezed fruit drinks were everywhere and I considered it a slice of my mini heaven to have fresh lime juice daily, Singaporean women are stunningly beautiful, nothing was out of place -- and I do mean nothing; garbage cans were even clean! Singaporean law is quite strict. There is no tolerance on many things: gum, drugs, theft, litter. It's quite dogmatic, but it works -- and I grew to like it.

Pat kindly thanked me for all my efforts with her in India (broken arm) and took me out to dinner on a large ferris wheel! It was really quite beautiful seeing the city lit up at night. We had a 5 course dinner + wine as we soared twice through the air. This ferris wheel is a big part of the skyline of the city, so it felt quite apt to be spending my one night in Singapore riding it. Fortunately, we shared a whole capsule with two students and got to know them so well. Great kids!

The city has several ethnic areas:  India ville and the Muslim area were two that I spent time in while thinking back to Morocco and India. I bought Ganesh finally and drank mint tea one last time. It has been interesting on this trip to see the movements of people, migrating out of their home countries to set up new lives elsewhere. They bring their food and culture with them, thus little pockets of India can be experienced in Singapore. Globalization at its finest!

Halloween in Singapore? weird, huh? especially in a country that doesn't really embrace the costume and candy orgy that we seem to really like. A friend on the ship came up with my costume, which I thought was quite clever...

A Jellyfish! Crew doctor and nurse.

Some Girls: My Life in a Harem

Some Girls: My Life in a Harem

Jillian Lauren

A true story! I loved it.

At eighteen, Jillian Lauren was an NYU theater school dropout with a tip about an upcoming audition. The "casting director" told her that a rich businessman in Singapore would pay pretty American girls $20,000 if they stayed for two weeks to spice up his parties. Soon, Jillian was on a plane to Borneo, where she would spend the next eighteen months in the harem of Prince Jefri Bolkiah, youngest brother of the Sultan of Brunei.

This was a sexy read set in an exotic land, but also a coming of age tale of a rebellious teenage girl trying to find herself. Lauren indeed does find more of herself when she is halfway around the world starring at her face while locked in mirrored palace rooms. She learns that despite the high-price she was being paid and priceless jewels in the world, being a piece of “rental property” for the Prince was ultimately a divorce of mind and body.

Prince Jefri

She presents her memoir – including many striking details of sex work – in a very reflective voice. I like how she examines her sex work, relationships, and herself without any moral judgment. For good or bad, her past is her past. Even on the dark side, she is quite natural and convincing in her choices. I can see how all of it happened for her. 

Ultimately, this is a provocative book – bold and reckless, fearless and delicate. It tells the truth behind life in a harem and how easily the lifestyle can remove the best of senses. But its also comes full circle – through the men, bad decisions, drugs, and deceit – to adopting a child and finding her husband. Any story of beautiful women from around the world, locked in luxury, competing for fortune, fame and the “love” of a prince makes for a good tale. Only this tale is true! … and happened not that long ago (80’s), which makes it all the better.

Too Much India!

 

 

 

 

Mosquito Consequences...the end.

Me saying Good-bye.

The short and the long of the story is that everything got worse before it got better. I stayed by her side through her deliriums, dialysis, delusions and fear. In a foreign hospital on the other side of the world is not where anyone wants this to happen. The malaria reeked havoc on her body before it got under control. It was terrible to watch & made me thankful that my decision not to take any preventative medicine myself didn’t result in a similar situation.

She is the only student for ages with this program to have contracted malaria. While the risks are present where we travel, they are still very low. Is it just about bad luck? No. partly, she didn’t take her preventative medicine correctly (as most of the ship didn’t, as well, I’m sure) and partly….just poor luck.

Mother's first job: de-'rats nest' her hair.

Our first night in the ER, she had a dialysis catheter placed in her neck because her lab worked already showed her kidneys shutting down. Kidneys, Liver, Lungs, Brain…every day, more complications presented themselves.

Bad luck would also have it that all of this started on a weekend – and as we all know, the world runs slower on weekends. Initially, I didn’t support her parents making the trek to India; we all thought it would be much less complicated than it turned out to be. By the end of the second day, the decision was made that they needed to come. Getting them to India, though, was not an easy feat. Consulates are closed on weekends and Indian visas are nearly impossible to get quickly – even on weekdays!

After MUCH effort from them, the consulates on both sides of the oceans, State Representatives and some good karma, they were able to arrive 4 days later -- the morning that we were due to sail. By this point, their daughter was starting to respond to treatment, but was still far from recovered.

Her father was cashed by mid-morning!

  

My ICU skills were invaluable during all of this. Having been on ‘the other side’ for many years, I had a special understanding of ICU culture, norms and routines. It was fortuitous to know who to speak to about what, what time rounds normally happen, how decisions are made in the hierarchy of residents/consultants/fellows/nurses, and how much ‘the little things’ count, i.e. bringing boxes of my favorite sweets from the local bakery I frequented! (big brownie points with the nurses)

 

I met her parents at the hotel early that morning and took them to the hospital. Watching them enter into this foreign world and see their daughter – swollen, jaundiced, sick and dirty – was a sight to behold. I love this part of nursing – the intimacy of the hearts of people. They wept and couldn’t stop saying 'thank you' while hugging their daughter. It was a moment I'll never forget. We also arranged for the deans on the ship, as well as her best friends from the ship, to visit her in the ICU on the last day. She was so grateful!

We sailed on and she had another 2 weeks in the hospital. It was a complicated course for her and she wasn’t able to rejoin the voyage. Only now - 6 weeks later, she is planning to meet us in San Diego.

I feel bonded to this girl forever.