We were initially supposed to arrive in Mauritius at 6 o’clock on October 4th, but our pace was expedited due to a “non-life-threatening medical emergency” (later determined to be a detached retina.) Because of this, customs cleared the ship the night of the 3rd, allowing us to debark at 6 am on the 4th. Yay, right? Despite increasing the American population in Mauritius from 9 to 472 in a matter of minutes, the business in Port Louis still did not open any earlier. We were disappointed to find an empty, desolate city until about 9 o’clock. After the island began to wake up, though, we found the vibrant and colorful tropical island that we were all expecting. I needed to hit up the post office to mail some letters as well as buy my friend John a scarf for his girlfriend (he was busy all day and wanted to get her one in every port.) First of all, the post office had a line 11 people long with only one person working. Sounds like the states, am I right?? (I kid.) I ended up buying about 20 stamps for all the SAS people in line behind me, reducing the line from 11 to about 3. We seem to have this effect on places. Afterwards I went to the market to get the scarf. I had been told that Mauritians don’t negotiate…ha! I got a scarf down from 350 to 200 rupees (about 7 bucks.) It was sold to me by a woman working there, and when I went up to her husband who was behind the counter, I handed him a 500. He pocketed it and went back to work. I stood there awkwardly before the lady presumably told him that she did not sell that scarf for 500 rupees. This displeased him greatly, as I pretty much had my change thrown at me while they began to argue. I slipped out of the store to Creole fury behind me.
Only having about 5 hours left, we hired two taxis and drivers for the remaining time and made our way down to Flic en Flac beach (I’m not making that up.) Initially I felt bad about spending my time in Mauritius at the beach…until I saw the beach. The turquoise water was unlike anything I had seen before, and the reef was literally steps from the water. It wasn’t crowded, it was about 80 degrees, and the sun was shining brightly. I was a happy, happy camper. At 3:30 we headed back to the ship. It was about a 30 minute drive, during which our driver talked to us about his life on Mauritius. He was a Muslim and said there is no better place in the world for Muslims to live. He echoed the statements of the Muslim in Cape Town, saying “we get along because there’s no reason not to. We were made to live together. That guy over there is human. We are all human. And here, that’s all that matters.” Another valuable message to take to heart. He also took this opportunity to vent his hatred of George W. Bush but, he was quick to add, he also detested Osama bin Laden. Without any provocation he launched into a diatribe on how terrorism is ruining the view of Islam for the world. Jihad, he said, is when you are praying peacefully in your mosque and somebody tries to come and destroy it. That is when jihad, or fighting to protect your beliefs, is permitted. Jihad is NOT traveling to another country and killing those who are not followers of Islam. This speech lasted the entire drive. When we arrived at the ship, there was a line to board about 200 people long. If you’re late onto the ship, you get dock time in the next port (you have to be 2 hours early for every 15 minutes you were late in the last port.) Luckily we made it on with about 6 minutes to spare, but about 50 people were not so lucky. Everyone was accounted for by the time we left the port, though, and we are now on our way safely to India. I am definitely expecting a large dose of culture shock but there’s no doubt it will be an adventure. The only thing I’m not looking forward to is the syndrome affectionately known as “Delhi Belly.” Stay tuned for updates, but if I come down with something, just be aware I won’t go into too much detail…
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