And these will be wonderful stories to tell.
But what get's overlooked a lot of the time is the journey--the days we spend getting from one place to another. It's hard to believe that I've been on the M.V Explorer for nearly 2 months (!!!!!!). It feels so much shorter and longer at the same time. Shorter because time is flying, but longer because the people who have become my friends feel like friends that I've had for years, not a couple of months.
So what I'm going to tell you about to day is a normal day on the M.V Explorer--my home.
It's common to say good morning to Arch (as in Desmond Tutu) every morning. I'll go to breakfast around 8am with my roommate, we'll meet up with our usual crowd of friends (Michela, Wendy, Kaitlyn, Cali, Emily), and we'll talk about anything and everything. Sometimes we wonder what we're missing back home, if there's a song equivalent to Call Me Maybe out right now and we're just blissfully unaware. Sometimes we'll talk about the paper that's due that we should be writing, or a test that snuck up on us. Sometimes we'll lookout for the new cereal that is being put out and whether or not there was any pineapple leftover in the fruit selection. Sometimes we'll talk about what we did in past countries and what we're doing in future countries.
This has become normal.
What astounds me is that we're able to say "Oh, I need to finish this paper before India", or "I can't believe I have a midterm right after Burma", or "What are your plans for Ghana?". Referring to countries instead of days has become the way that we keep time. When everybody around you is going through the same thing you are, it's easy to forget that this isn't a common journey that we're on.
Sometimes we'll sing Taylor Swift songs as we're walking up the stairs, or we'll meander from one side of the hallway to the other due to a wave. The day goes by in a blur of errands and conversations...visits to the field office trying to figure what to do in a country, talking to Unreasonable people in line during lunch, taking malaria pills, and sanitizing hands "or risk pooping" (so threatens our Dean).
There's usually a lot that goes on at night--we go to Zumba, go to the gym together, eat dinner, hang out in the Piano Lounge. Around 8pm (or 2000) there is usually some sort of preport that goes on in the Union where we learn about the country that we're heading to. These usually go on every night, but the one that happens the day before we get into port is mandatory. The doctor tells us about all the diseases we could contract, how to avoid travelers diarrhea (whoops), what foods to avoid, all that fun stuff. The Dean will tell us statistics from the last port (ex: 29 stolen iPhones in Vietnam), a couple credit card frauds, etc. The head of the Field Office will come and tell us about all the amazing things to do, and interport students will chime in with things to add to our to do list and helpful phrases. For example, last night at the cultural preport for India a interport student taught us how to say "yes, spice" and "no, spice".
A day in the life.
Usually there will be other things going on after the Explorer Seminar/Preport. Last night there was a panel discussion on "How to Change the World" with Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Tori Hogan, and Ken Banks. The people on this ship just astound me. Ken Banks has been acknowledged by National Geographic, Tori is barely 30 and she's written a book (check it out, it's called Beyond Good Intentions), and I don't think I have to list anything about Desmond Tutu.
But by far what astounds me the most is the fact that this ship has become home. It is literally the place that is taking me to all these countries. I open my cabin door in the morning, I walk up the stairs, I reach the sixth deck and then I have the option of turning right or left, both will take me around the same circle above Tymitz Square, through the piano lounge, and into the Garden Lounge, which is one of the decks where meals are served. I know how long it takes for me to get to each class from where I am (tops 2 minutes), and I have become a pro at using the demonic ice dispenser on the 6th deck. My twin size bed and small cabin are welcome sites when I return from a country where I have left the city where the ship is. Getting back on the ship feels like coming home, even if it's just at the end of a very long day.
The community that has been built on this ship deserves a whole blog post of its own, but to put into words what it actually is isn't possible. As my psych prof told me, sometimes trying to put things into words just messes up the experience in the first place. So picture this: a place where you feel absolutely comfortable and satisfied. The minute closet space and 3 drawers that you own you know by heart. Should I mention that someone cleans your room every other day? The showers are nothing special but they are your shower. You wake up in the morning, see somebody you've never even talked to, and you acknowledge eachother for no other reason than the fact that you are on a ship, in the middle of an ocean, going on this incredible journey together.
We are all in this together.
I hope that I've managed to convey (at least a little bit) what makes Semester at Sea so special. All the youtube videos I've watched, emails I've sent to alumni, pictures I've seen online...this is now my life. I am the "current voyage" on the Semester at Sea website, it's my voyage that is being talked about, my life that is being lived.
So as I get ready to step foot in India, I want to send out a sincere thanks to all the people who listened to me talk endlessly about SAS, staring my sophomore year of high school. This is everything more than I wished for, and even though I've spent a night in the bathroom losing everything inside me (and more), I currently have a head cold, and I'm pretty sure I'm missing out on one of the sunniest days so far, this is still by far one of the best days of my life...because I am home.
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