By Ma Weixin

When Jackie chan unleashed his lightening-fast spinning-kick in the air, smashing a bunch of pirates who hijacked a cruise liner in the 1993 movie city hunter, I never envisaged years later I'd end up being among those hoi polli prostrating before well-heeled passengers as they revel in their fantasies in such a floating palace at Mediterranean Sea, though, so far I have not been hijacked yet.

Admittedly, this job is not as wretched as I hyperbolized above-with the collateral opportunity for free International travel alone, dozens of young men compete for one single position on the cruise labour market back in China, but up to now I have been blasé enough to be out after half a year's oceanic odyssey consumed my last gasp of patience by nostalgia, inconvenience of communication and spells of mishaps struck upon me.

Last January when millions of college seniors were still fretting over jobs, future and aching about the imminent end of the era of debauchery, I landed an interview for the Silversea Cruises via a Weihai based labour agency which charged me 1,400 dollars or so as fares to operating costs including the Maritime Crew Visa. Since then it was the 13 months of excruciating haul before the long-dangled onboard date finally rolled around. Meanwhile I delivered my graduate paper, and afterward joined Intercontinental Qingdao as a sales coordinator before I had to resign to actualize the dreaming voyage.

I knew it was not going to be easy, but as the forthcoming abroad adventure had brought some ever more ecstasy to overwhelm the solicitude till the moment when I waded through throngs of travelers out of Terminal C of the Rome Leonard da Vinci Airport finding myself lost in a daze of a completely strange hemisphere, the real ordeal and grill had just come to claim its first salvo. Despite the palpitation as I missed the agents who were supposed to pick me up and having suffered cramps last night during the flight, I managed to compose myself quickly and made a phone call to tell the agents my precise location before I  ultimately arrived the hotel in Civitavecchia, a sea port 80 km west-north of Rome, designated for crew members to wait the ship which would dock the wharf nearby next morning.

Residents of this small Italian town led a tranquil and peaceful life, even in the family-run trattoria, you don't see over effusive hospitality though they are indeed friendly and amicable under their skin. Yet the most impressive scene for me was that almost every woman I came across was smoking, alongside the beige-colored fortress from Roman time, which could possibly was dyed by the smog puffed from those perennial burning butts.

After the short sojourn, I boarded the ship and initiated my short-lived seafaring career. Slogging my way through the cavernous labyrinth of passages, a run of orientation activities continued to plod on. I am a dining room utility which entails multiple tasks from floor cleaning, food running to serving. As jet lag, nausea , swept over me one after another , it didn't take long for me to realize the herculean challenge ahead. In spite of my strenuous efforts to advance, withering criticism from supervisors still ruthlessly fell on me. " If you 're sorry to say that you can not fulfill your duty, then I also will have to say sorry to you." Maitre D' Hotel scolded me for failing to vacuum the wooden floor properly after one night of rough sea. Huddling alone in the windowless dark den, a sense of dismay precipitated into silent weeps sparked by a conjunction of the bungling progress, the fear of being sent home.

" Strike me down, then I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine, strike me and a hundred men will spring up in my place." It is then that Sidney Young's insubordinate line "How to Lose Friends and Alienate People(2008)" inspired me to stand up from those setbacks that whacked me heavily but would never destroy me.

" I may go back soon, but not now." I told myself. Seasickness faded out in the sporadic outbreaks of vomiting. Without the blight of illed body condition, a string of self-imposed training programs kicked off in full swing with on a daily basis ranging from heavily loaded tray holding to dish recipes memorizing." The gain is worth the pain." HR's billing board says. The first month crept away, with nine plates of food topped one another in my tray, I made it to drift with ease through the aisles among 60 tables. The chefs like me, they often praised me for my hard work, whereas the Maitre d' and headwaiters, due to my solemn attitude, barely hit it off with me. To get graded, no matter where, you need to have some people skills, which is successfully maneuvered by one of my compatriots who earned so much ovation from the supervisors that he was promoted from utility to assistant waiter just within 5 months. Instead of any disparagement, I admire him too, debonair, expeditious, and humorous, excellent enough to bear anyone's criteria.Still I seemed to be a quintessentially mediocre, quiet asian for everyone. One of the headwaiters told me before he signed off, " Only crying baby gets the milk, if you remain silent, you will be on the same position forever." I appreciate his benevolent intention, but they just do not know my aspiration was backed up by working feverishly on something far beyond. Ever since I mastered all the basic knowledge of western epicurism, the gravity of my life had been shifted to literatures reading and writing. I collected outdated newspapers as many as I can, read repeatedly , made notes as well as tossed off some short comments.

Actually this move didn't gain grand momentum until an ominous incident occured. On March 22, one of my bicuspids, once a healthy tooth, was extracted by a dentist in Yalta at the expense of the ship company after it was cracked apart two days ago by a piece of grit in the rice when I was taking supper in the crew mess. Without taking even one meal off, I had to keep working under the explanation of one of the headwaiters that I was the only cleaner of Dining Room Department right after the dentist did his botching work that my whole left face was bloated like a pink rubber balloon, and the gum bled for two days. What I was told by some other employees having similar experiences with me that instead of crowning, the extraction was proceeded because the dentist knew that this is the only option the company would pay for according its policy really irritated me insomuch that I claimed the company should hold the responsibility to implant a new tooth for me as this accident was caused by the food provided by the company of whom the quality should be firmly guaranteed. Like speaking to a silent wall, my request was filed without any reply by Rachel, the Hr onboard lack of de facto decision making power. Short after that, I caught a high fever lasting for four days, same like before without medical leave. Not once did I gripe about the backbreaking work, not even disease did I cave in, but unjustifiable treatment such like this, by no mean would I abide by. I was therefore determined to leave.

Harking back to the past five months I spent on the ship, some wonderful memories interwoven with grueling ones oddly sprang up in my mind where the passion for writing was rekindled with new hope.The original purpose for me to choose this career was almost out of a sheer utopia of free exotic travelling, but it was not until two weeks later that I went ashore for some short-range tour once I joined the ship, due to the slow and painstaking adaption to ship life and we had arrived in Greece by then.

My first stop was Rhodes island, a world heritage site which irradiates in a thousand ways but resonates in my heart long afterward through its world renowned hospitality. Long gone the colossus of Helios, their patron god, erected circa two thousand years ago to commemorate their triumph over the Demetrius Seige and collapsed during a catastrophic earthquake 56 years later, there remains the base pedestal as a witness of Rhodians' heroic deed and its reputation of the seven wonders of the ancient world. More than that is multitudes of ancient fortresses, castles, Gothic architectures and Ottoman Mosques, the bulk of which won the recognition of theUNESCO. There is also the daily hustle and bustle in the souvenirs-crammed square , but as long as you walk beyond that scene, the genuine peace and tranquility would elude slowly from the countenance and of their people and the way they talk. Slipping into any of its slightly raucous pebbled-lanes, I cannot help falling into an illusion of backing to the the days of yore."Western europeans may thought us belligerent because of the frequently violent demonstrations eleswhere in Greece, but here in Rhodes, you could just forget about everything." Philip said,"Our seclusive island produces nothing but warm shelter for outsiders of skittish and brash." This sprightly 60-year-old shopkeeper offered me a shot of ouzo, the aniseed-flavored Greek liquor, after I was embarrassed to explain that I hadn't got a penny as the ship company imperatively wired the better part of my salary home when he invited me for a seat in a Taverna.

Dominating the landscape of Rhodes is colour of gold ochre of its immense ancient brick wall, while in other parts of Greece, the typical image of Greece islands, or Mediterranean scenery more generally speaking, simple white and blue have defined people's impression about this region from the rest of the world. I've always seen numerous post cards, paintings depicting white-washed houses doted in the shroud of ethereal blue sky facing emerald ocean which draw millions of tourists flooding there for that nearly monochromatic but classic images. So when I got to Mikonos and Santorini, I was so gripped with such excitement, agape, as to impusively generate the idea of hiding there forever.

In so far as I am still a law abiding citizen, thus illegal immigration scenario could never come to life. Given that watching Roma people expulsed by French police with their xenophobia, my oceanic nomadic adventure is awful but much more secured.