Kickin' it with the Archbishop

I finish doing a set of crunches on Deck 7 aft. It's a little after 0600. The sun has burst through the horizon straight out in front of me and a light orange glow is cast over the Atlantic. My ipod shuffles from Death Cab for Cutie to Tom Petty, a phenomenon that has started to suspiciously occur ever since I met Jocilyn. I look up, only to find the Archbishop Desmond Tutu walking by in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. "Good Morning" I say to him as if we are both regulars at the YMCA. That radiant smile glares back at me -- the kind of smile that is hard for most to find at daybreak. "I know, I'm going to do another set" I joke, as I lay there on my thick yoga mat. Only on Semester at Sea.

Cut to this afternoon in the Faculty Staff lounge where I had the pleasure of chatting with him, sans my face covered in sweat.
I got back on the ship a few days ago in Nassau and am now headed for New York. The ship hasn't docked in New York since the 70s, so it's a rather large deal that we're pulling right in to the New York harbor, past the statue of liberty. Why the French didn't take it back when we went obnoxiously gangbusters over fries is beyond me, but I'm glad it's still there for photo ops.