As of Saturday, it's official. Semester at Sea and I have defined our relationship. Status: officially happening.
What does one do when a dream becomes a reality? When fives years of excitement, pining, anxiousness, and a myriad of other emotions finally reach the same conclusion? I don't really know.
Friday is when SAS released their final financial aid contribution to each student. I was disappointed to see that the Alumni scholarship that I spent weeks on didn't earn me a pretty penny at all. Not even a penny, actually. It was so anticlimactic to open my MyVoyage page (an account I've been dying to have since I was 15) and see that nothing (nada, zip, zero) had changed.
But my parents, being the blessing of support that they are, have decided that this adventure is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that doesn't have a price tag, although the literal tag is enough to make any sane individual question their sanity. So that's where I'm at. It's happening.
I'm registered for classes. One may think that the hard part is over, but oh no, you don't know Semester at Sea (or WWU, for that matter) like I do.
I still have to get solid answers out of the financial aid department, which I thought would be easiest thing of the whole debacle, but it's turning out to be the hardest. I'm still going to be applying for outside funding, visas (which is a whole process in itself), not to mention the list of 549 other items that must be completed before I leave. And of course, I must prepare emotionally as well.
The idea of being away from home for 4 months is daunting. The longest I have gone without contact with my parents was the month I spent in Kenya, where it was literally impossible to get ahold of them. So as I travel the world by ship, where I will have my electronics readily available, I wonder if that will make homesickness better or worse? Come January 9, all will be revealed.
I don't even know if anyone is going to read this. My parents are the only ones who have been with me on this journey, right from the very beginning when the idea of Semester at Sea was a distant dream that I scoffed at the idea of.
On May 3 I visited the open ship in San Diego. I was early, eagerly waiting in Timitz square for my tour to begin. A staff member walked up to me and started talking. After back and forth conversation about Semester at Sea, she told me "It'll work out, I can feel it." So all I have left to say is this: To the stranger that believed in my dream without even knowing me, thank you. You're right. It's working out.
