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Setting sail from San Diego after boarding the faculty and staff; first stop, Vancouver.

The parent's reception (no students allowed!) featured a huge chocolate ship and dragon. Sadly, no tasting allowed.

Prof. Hansen welcomes the parents with a speech in the "Union."

The parents listen to Prof. Hansen

Looking back on Vancouver as we began our voyage. All was still calm. The most exciting thing awaiting that we knew of was the life boat drill scheduled for 30 minutes after departure. Little did we know its importance.

Some of he faculty waited out the stormy night in the deck 7 corridor. We breakfasted on trail mix and lunched on Tostitoes.

The North Pacific in January is not unfailingly idyllic. This picture does not do the waves justice.

Meanwhile, the store tossed its goods around pretty severely.

The computer monitors were dumped on the floor when the table broke. Note that there were no triangular braces on the table legs.

From our dock, we were able to gaze across the island and see Diamondhead.

When we got to Honolulu, Semester At Sea hosted us all at a luau. Some people really got into the spirit.

Here are Susan and I enjoying the luau.

The next day Susan and Ellyn visited the Polynesian Cultural Center run by the Mormons on the other side of Oahu. Behind Ellyn is a Fiji temple.

The Cultural Center features South Sea islanders wearing authentic costumes and demonstrating various native crafts. These warriors are preparing for a dance.

This unstill life study by Susan contrasts the first blue sky of our trip with a rich medley of leaves.

One boat in the daily aquatic parade.

At the quilting exhibition, this cheerful lady was working on one of her own creations.

Sunset from the stern one evening in Honolulu.

Our visit to Shanghai corresponded with Chinese new year. As this time, people write wishes on ribbons and throw them into this tree in a Shanghai shopping mall.

Also within the shopping center is a garden hundreds of years old.

Bonsai in the garden. This one is at least a century old.

This stone is called a "jade" for its beauty; it is not made of jade.

More decorations for Chinese New Years.

Old style Chinese streets feature dozens of narrow shops. Behind these a new building is rising. Often the scaffolding is bamboo, though more steel is now being used than ten years ago.

A typical hole-in-the-wall shop.

Praying at New Years in the Temple of the Jade Buddha. The haze is incense burning.

Making a quilt lining by stretching mashed silk worm cocoons.

While walking on the Bund, Shanghai's portside park, this little boy was as curious about me as I of him.

The Chinese army enjoying an outing on Shanghai's Bund.

This enigmatic tree root was displayed in the lobby of our hotel.

From Shanghai, some took a side trip to Guillin instread of Beijing. There we sailed on the Li River to see the "gumdrop" hills. In some places they rise steeply vertical, right out of a flat plain.

Lunch was served aboard our vessel. It was cooked on the back porch as on this sister ship.

More gumdrop hills. Note that typical foggy/misty Chinese paintings reflect reality.

Water buffalo are a common beast of burden in Southeast Asia.

Near where we debarked is this old banyan tree. The red notes are wishes attached to the tree. Many old trees are being destroyed this way.

Vendors at the banyan tree offer monkeys to have your picture taken with.

Some vendors have computers. Business was slow on a rainy day, some were using their computers to play solitaire.

In the evening we went to an acrobatics show with Cirque-de-Soleil-like trappings. Here two performers pose after the show in front of a strange picture in the lobby.

Reed Flute Cave, near Guillin, has this huge room with colorful lighting.

Next day we had a "lesson" in Chinese painting. The first thing he put on the canvas were the horns of the righthand animal. Of course no demonstration is possible without a subsequent lengthy shopping time.

Here are the gumdrop hills as seen from our hotel window. Below the hill gap across the river are several horse sculptures in the river. They were on shore the day before, but the river rose rapidly during the night.

From Vietnam my tour took me to Cambodia. They have little to show, so the deaths under Pol Pot are a drawing card. This bulding is part of a school where prisoners were interned and interrogated prior to their death on the killing field.

Pictures of some young victims of the interrogation camp.

Two small businesses in Phnom Penh. Such shops are typical all across southeast Asia and India.

Selling Coca Cola outside the memorial holding 70,000 skulls.

Visiting the memorial was gripping, but not pleasant.

The killing fields behind the memorial. Each of 186 pits held the remains of at least a hundred people.

After Phnom Penh we travelled north to the temples of Angkor. The first was Angkor Wat, surrounded by a moat 200 meters across and a mile long on each side. Here the temple itself is framed in one of the snake railings that once wound its way all around the compound.

Angkor Wat has a number of Buddha sculptures user for daily prayers.

Work is ongoing to restore Angkor Wat.

Every surface is carved. Fences are surmounted with snakes.

Flat surfaces are engraved in bas relief representations of Hindu myths.

The four outer walls of Angkor Wat itself are covered in bas relief. Here we see half of one wall. I imagined myself as a carver starting at one end of a blank wall. Here is my hammer and here my chisel. "Tink, tink."

Stairs to the highest level of the temple were quite steep.

The carving is often quite intricate. The strings here are something to do with restoration work.

On each side of the path to the temple is a "library" like this one.

At dawn, I climbed to the top, but got no really interesting pictures.

Dawn finally broke when I was back down from the top.

The next day we visited Angkor Thom, the temple usually shown as overrun by the "jungle." But I would call it a forest; it is quite open.

The trees have even moved some of the pieces of the temple.

This last temple, Ta Prohm, is Buddhist. It features at least forty huge images of Buddha on the four faces of each of ten towers.

A modern Buddha near the old ones.

Leaving the temples area we went through the gate and over the bridge of gods and demons. Here are gods, smiling.

Demons are always shown scowling.

Susan visited the Chithra Cultural Center south of Chennai. Here her guide poses in front of a cart used to parade around the temple idols during festivals.

Temple complex at Chithra.

Dance group. They travel India presenting the Mahabarita. It takes 6 hours, so they also offer an abridged, one hour version for ignorant, impatient westerners.

Agra is the home of the Taj Mahal. But first we got dragged to a shopping exposition. They did show us a loom and made one knot on it. This unusual rug features designs from the Taj Mahal. I bought nothing.

Next we visited the Red Fort. I was eager to see it since it features in the Sherlock Holmes novel, The Sign of the Four. However, 80% of the fort is still in use by the Indian army and is closed to the public.

The Taj is visible from the Red Fort. In Agra, the majority of tourists were Indian.

Sometimes my camera is of no interest to my subjects.

As everywhere in India, we found wild monkeys in the fort.

Transport and drivers were everywhere in India. Espcially in tourist areas.

After getting frisked by the Sikh guards, we were allowed into the Taj area, but the Taj itself was still hidden behind this wall and gate.

The gate is cleverly designed so your first view of the Taj is dramatic. However, the sheer size is still not apparent.

Halfway from the gate to the Taj, it appears even bigger. And people are everywhere.

This flower is featured in some of the designs on the Taj. To the right of the Taj is the guest house. Opposite is a similar building housing a mosque.

From the mosque we get this view of the side of the Taj.

Work is ongoing, especially on paths and fences. Rocks break under constant traffic.

My guide kept showing me places to take pictures. Then he demanded a lot of moeny; I paid a third, but still too much.

Looking back at the entry gate.

The guest house. The river is at the lower left corner of the picture. In Shah Jahan's day it was drinkable. Not now.

Flowers on the Taj itself. The dark design is inlaid semi-precious stone. Inlaid an inch. Guides shine a flahlight so you can see its depth and translucence.

The design on the terrace around the base of the Taj. No shoes are alloed up here and within the Taj. The inside is quite dark and has little of interest.

The mosque.

The sun came out later in the visit.

I stood at this spot and took a dozen pictures trying to capture the colors of the saris. Never really got the shot I wanted, but this is maybe the best.

The fountain spigots bisect the image.

I just like this shot. It's from the entry gate area.

Fatehpur Sikri was founded because a holy man living there prophesied a son and the prophesy came true. (If not, would he have lost his head?) Taken from the king's quarters and public audience area, this shot shows the harem on the left, the private audience building in the middle, and a pool with island on the right.

The site overlooks a gorgeous valley.

As we entered we met this carver who instantly reached forth with a crude elephant scratching we could buy.

Intricate carving. The herringbone effect is common at the site.

Our guide. The most repetitive guy I've met. No wonder that his audience here is less than our full compliment of seventy tourists.

A better view of the island platform. Still looking toward the private audience building.

Inside the so-called priate audience building is a central column with walkways from the four corners. The building's purpose is not entirely clear.

The king's quarters.

The walls are rubble-and-veneer. Here we see some veneer over the bush, but mostly it has wasted away.

The private audience building from a nearby ruined area. After fifteen years of building the city, they finally noticed that there was not enough water to sustain a city. It was abandoned. (Exemplifies: quixotic waste by wealthy individual; the importance of resources.)

Adjacent to the bus parking was the old mint, a series of buildings under low domed roofs.

Typical village street scene through bus front window. Lots of traffic. Series of little shops on both sides of the road.

New Delhi is a far cry from a typical Indian village. It features wide roads and plentiful parkland. Shops appear able to withstand a gale. This picture is the Indian parliament build, from the bus.

We did get to alight to visit India Gate, a war memorial.

Our next stop was a Sikh temple. Going in, we passed this building. Apparently they can fix hair, but not old auto-rickshaws.

The Sikhs require bare feet and head covering. And my hat was not good enough. Here I am decked out appropriately.

The area around the temple is built up, so there is no good exterior shooting angle. You are supposed to walk through the foot baths at the bottom of the stairs. (Just beneath the two gentlemen on the right.)

Front view of the altar. The object of worship is a book containing the writings of the ten founding prophets of Sikhism. In the foreground is the prayer rail. Before kneeling, you deposit money in the brass trough behind the rail. At the right are three musicians playing and singing. The left two have some sort of table accordian; the third plays percussion.

Sikhism is only a few hundred years old. Not too hidebound that they can't have a computer right behind the altar. I've no clue what it is for.

Gandhi's bedroom in his last days. His appointments are modest, but the house is on an elegant estate belonging to a benefactor.

Gandhi's last steps are preserved in concrete. Some try to walk them; exceeding huge and difficult feet to follow. Why is it that so many of the best people die at the hands of others?