officially a shellback

ok, so here’s what happens to you on netpune day: First, they start a couple of nights before by cutting folks’ hair into mohawks to that it’ll be easier to shave on the big day:

Then on Neptune Day itself, they start the morning off around 0800 when the crew (and a few staff & students) run through the halls beating drums to wake everyone up. It reminded me of college. Mount Holyoke had a tradition where the juniors woke the first-years up in the middle of the night for campus-roaming, though I can’t remember what that event was called. Everyone runs around screaming "hol-y-oke, hol-y-oke ..." to a Wizard of Oz tune. This is the crew a little later in the morning:

Then everyone lines up and the crew pours freezing cold sour milk on your head:

(that's Toni, who teaches sociology, along with her daughter)

(and Rachael, who teaches geology, with her husband).

... while everyone watches

... including Archbishop Tutu:

... and then you jump in the pool (which gets milkier by the minute):

... and then you climb out and you have to kiss a fish … and avoid Mary & Michael over-sliming you … let me tell you, Mary & Michael smelled WONDERFUL by the end of this activity. Mary & Michael are already shellbacks, having sailed past the equator before, and so they get the privilege of torturing the rest of us.

And then you bow down & kiss the ring of King Neptune (played by Captain Jeremy):

And then you celebrate your transition from a pollywog to a shellback. Here’s Giles, who teaches Marxism:

And me, just to prove that I did it, with Robin & Dawn:

I was wearing jeans, which you can't tell in that photo, and which are now drip-drying in my shower.

And then (yes, there's more) ... you go get your hair shaved off …

That last one is Lindsay, one of our workstudy students. You can sort-of see her long blond hair in Sherri's photo that I put up the other day:

and even baby Ryder gets his hair shaved:

I did not get mine shaved off, but I did get it cut short. I knew when I got it cut in December for locks of love that I was in trouble with the new length. Too short to stay pulled back and too long to be off my shoulders in the hot hot hot weather we’d be experiencing on this trip. I was miserable with the heat in San Juan and Salvador and it’s only to get worse as we head to Mauritius and India. So, I cut my hair:

Anne-Claire (left) cut most of it & Mary (right, & smelling like fish) did the final bit. We’ve actually cut it even shorter as the day has gone on, still futzing with it ...

I figure you only become a shellback once …