Cape Town: The good, the bad, the painful

Archbishop Desmond Tutu lecturing in my Global Studies Class

Kathleen and Danielle in front of the MV Explorer with Table Mountain and Cape Town in the background

At the Cape Eye Hospital with some of the fantastic nurses on the day of my release

I haven’t written for quite as while, but as you’ll see there is a good reason for the delay!

The day before arriving in Cape Town, Archbishop Desmond Tutu spoke in my Global Studies class. The students packed the Union (ship’s auditorium) like sardines, many of them sitting on the floor. The Archbishop gave a very moving presentation about South Africa in his direct but always positive manner and the students stayed and listened well past the end of the class. What a way to get ready to arrive in South Africa! There was much anticipation before reaching Cape Town since everyone had heard that it was a beautiful city and area. The ship arrived before sunrise, we could see the city lit up, and could just barely make out the outline of Table Mountain. By the time we were docked, however, the geographic beauty of the city was clearly visible. The students were quite excited because the city appeared just like another, modern, clean city in the U.S. When we received the diplomatic briefing though, one of the consular officers started discussing crime and most of us wondered if we should even get off the ship. Cape Town, after all, has the highest homicide rate in the world. (The outcome? Nothing serious happened to anyone).

On the first day we went on a city orientation, which was fine, but some of us felt it was too touristy and not of much educational value. On the city orientation, I started to see some dark spots in my right eye and began to fear that I may be having a torn retina. By that evening, I noticed a semicircular shadow in the lower part of my right eye. I had suffered a detached retina in my left eye a little over a year ago so I knew exactly what was happening. Very quickly, the ship’s doctor, Chris Tonozzi, a faculty member across the hall, Jeff Glazer, and his wife, Lisa Braun Glazer, who is a psychologist on the ship started to make phone calls and send emails. By late that evening, they had found that there is an excellent eye hospital in Cape Town. The following morning, Dr. Chris had gotten me an appointment with a retina specialist. Kathleen got us a taxi and took me to the Cape Eye Hospital and I saw Dr. James Acton. Sure enough, I had a detached retina and I felt confidence in the doctor so I decided to let him operate rather than try and fly back to Chicago which would probably lead to some major loss in my eyesight. By 5:30 p.m., I was in the operating room and was wheeled out at about 7:00 p.m. Kathleen had made friends with some of nurses and one of them gave her a ride back to the ship with her husband. I stayed in the hospital for two nights then returned to the ship, where I stayed in our cabin, laying low. They brought my meals to the cabin which was a special treat and several people came by to see how I was doing. I learned later that most people had no idea I was back on the ship. One student later told me that she had heard that I had lost my eye in Cape Town!

Overall, considering what happened to me far away from home on a ship, I was extremely lucky that things worked out so well. David Geis, the academic dean of the voyage, told me not to worry about the Global Studies course that people would cover for me and to simply take care of my eye. Kathleen and I stayed in Cape Town, in a nice hotel, for an extra five nights and thus we watched the ship sail away from Cape Town with our 8-year old daughter Danielle, on board with her grandparents, Denise and Gerry. It was a strange and scary feeling. After four days of recovery in The Commodore Hotel (a very nice place) the doctor said that I could fly to Mauritius to meet the ship. So, Kathleen and I make the one day trip on two planes and got to Mauritius a day before the ship arrived, staying at a small but fine hotel in Port Luis. The next morning we took a taxi to the port and got on the ship by 8:15 a.m. I don’t think I’ve every felt so missed in my entire life. Pretty much everyone who saw me said things like “glad to have you back,” “we missed you,” “how are you doing,” and, my personal favorite, “the Global Studies class hasn’t been the same without you.” I must say that recovering from surgery on a ship with so many nice people on board is fantastic and does great things to your mental well-being.