Yesterday began, more or less, with the ship's undertaking a very impressive U-turn from its berth in Ho Chi Minh City, and then heading out to calm seas, where we are now. My share of the hundreds of conversations that follow our time in each port has included many enthusiastic, often passionate, responses to Vietnam and Cambodia.
We have on board for this next leg a Burmese monk and a young man with experience in the country's tourism industry. Yesterday the began visiting classes and answering questions, and the monk, Van Nendaka, held a fascinating, well-attended question and answer session last night. Coming as it does nearly at the mid-point of the class schedule—we had nearly a third of our class sessions before we reached Japan—our next port offers opportunities to think about and discuss matters pertaining to the ethics of tourism, some unique to our next port and others common to many of the ports and indeed to much of the world.
But what to call this next port? I am, you see, using "Burma," as does the voyage home page at semesteratsea.org. We are in this way consistent with US State Department practice, though one could argue that http://travel.state.gov/content/passports/en/country/burma.html fudges it just a little. UNan, as we call the visiting monk, is insistent that we say "Myanmar."
As long as I am including links, let me suggest http://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/25/opinion/ending-the-horror-of-myanmars-abuse-of-muslims.html , which indicates some of the issues that will require ethical questions to be part of our discussion.
My administrative colleagues tell me that some parents worry a little during our times in port when son and daughters become less communicative. The students are busy on days like today when we're at sea, but these are in some sense normal academic days, and they may allow the quick text or email message, whereas for many, maybe most, days in port can have a very intense pace, driven by the desire to get us much from our short stays as possible. A parent myself, I don't doubt, let alone deplore, other parents' wish to hear regularly from their children on those days, but neither do I doubt, having met many current students' parents back in San Diego and since, that most would prefer for the times in port to be so full as to make communication back home less common. The reward for occasional radio silence must be the thrilled reports that follow when students return to the ship. I hope some come today: Happy Valentine's Day to all.
