A Reflection of Sorts

I've been trying to write this for the past two months but try as I might, I just can't seem to be able to put into words the complexities of everything I experienced. So I present this to you as it is, nothing more than mere words, that despite the beautiful complexity of the English language, could never do justice to what I wish I could express.

My last sight of the ship, the MV Explorer, was from the airplane as I left San Diego for Denver. I thought I had said my goodbyes, but in some cruel twist of irony, there she was, right outside my window, sitting there in all her beauty as I was whisked away. That moment, watching her sit in port as we ascended, was the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever experienced, which is probably pretty selfish considering everything I saw. But that ship was my home, my school, a place of familiarity and safety on the other side of the world, the place where all of my friends and family were; that ship was my entire life. And there I was, watching as she became smaller and smaller and wondering if I would ever see her again.

I walked off the airplane at DIA wearing Indian pants, a SAS hoodie, and sporting a stack of nine Vietnamese rice paddy hats on my head. I attracted some pretty curious looks, and I deserved and was proud of every one of them.

That first night back was everything I thought it would be, as I shared stories of my adventures and was welcomed back by my family and friends. But the homesickness for the life I had come to know for the past four months set in quicker than I thought it would. That first night back everyone eventually drifted off to bed, and I was ultimately left alone. Completely alone. For the first time in four months. It had never occurred to me how every moment of my life for the past four months there had constantly been people around. Whether I was enjoying their company, or just working on my computer while they sat nearby, or sleeping in my room with my roommate sleeping a few feet away, there were always people. And suddenly, for the first time in four months I was aware of nothing but the fact that there was no one. It was so bizarre. I had never thought about how lonely it would be not having 800 people around constantly. That first night back I sat and watched TV in my mom’s room while she slept because I couldn’t handle the emptiness.

The other thing that got to me pretty quickly was the lack of movement. I lived on a ship, and after a certain amount of time, the constant swaying just became second nature. There were a few nights after I got back when I just layed in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why everything had to be so eerily still, so still that it was impossible to sleep. It still feels too still sometimes, and I find myself wondering if the literal stillness really bothers me all that much, or if it is just a metaphor for how motionless my life has suddenly become.

And slowly, as the novelty of being back wares off (which was actually pretty quickly) more things trickle together into one big mess of things I miss. Things like:

• Being trapped in the same small space with 800 other people and thus never having a moment alone.
• Being cut off from technology
• Communication meaning face-to-face
• Stargazing on the 7^th deck
• Stuart’s voice
• 23-hour days
• Alibaba pants being chic
• Stealing grapes from the Garden Lounge in my water bottle
• Grumbling about not wanting to get out of bed and go to class a few feet away
• Stressing over what to do in the next port
• Late nights in the Piano Lounge
• Doing laundry in the bathroom sink
• Hearing a knock on my door instead of a cell phone buzz
• Bridge reports
• Nalbach’s powerpoints
• Captain Krstanovic’s red glasses
• Sunrises over port
• Sneaking into the Glacier Lounge to watch said sunrises
• Sneaking onto the observation deck when it was still closed off to watch said sunrises when the excitement was just too great to wait any longer
• Green sheets
• Living with all of my best friends
• Achiles and the rest of our amazing crew
• New towels every four days
• LeFevre ending every class with “YAAAY!!!”
• Ice cream cones on deck 7
• Everyone stumbling around like drunkards when the seas got rough
• Leaving my computer sitting in the hallway for hours on end to load an email with too many pictures
• Outrageous rumors, like when North Korea declared war on the US
• Whale sightings
• Military time
• Lifeboat drills
• Humidity
• Being rocked to sleep by the swaying of the ship
• Always waking up in a new place
• All of the above becoming so routine that we actually couldn’t wait to get off the ship

Most of all I miss that feeling of being alive, of never knowing what adventures tomorrow would bring, of seeing everything with amazement and wonder, of relishing every little moment because there was always something to be excited about. I miss the constant adrenalin and adventure.

Everyday it seems more and more like a dream. Everyday the mundaneness of ordinary life takes a stronger hold and I find myself living less and less in the moment and more and more in the memories of what was the greatest adventure anyone could ever hope for.

Since I got home I have refused to touch pasta or potatoes, but I would happily eat nothing but pasta and potatoes for an eternity if it meant being with everyone again and sailing to someplace new.

Being back home has been more of a culture shock than any traveling I have ever done, because when you travel, you expect things to be different. What you don’t expect, is to return back home and find someplace completely foreign, because traveling has changed the way you see things, and interpret the world. What used to be my humble little college house is now a house far more grand than the little shacks and huts that the majority of the people I met lived in. what used to be an ordinary lunch is now far more food than a family in Africa would ever hope to see in a day, maybe even a week. Where I used to see an immigrant worker who would move here without even bothering to learn English, I now see a person who somehow managed to escape a harsh and cruel life, and now has a chance to provide something better for his or her family. Where I used to see designer clothing, expensive jewelry, and fancy cars, I now see nothing but consumerism, superficial happiness, and the sad reality that all that the majority of people care about is wealth and personal gain.

A couple weeks after my return, my work flew me out to Minneapolis for our biannual conference. At the end of it all we had a lavish dinner for hundreds of attendees, the cost of which was $50 per person. As I sat there in the ballroom of the Hilton, eating my $50 endive salad, I remembered a little girl in Ghana, who not so long ago had joined my friends and I for dinner during our stay in her homeland. We had forgotten about her momentarily as we ate all that we desired, but after we were finished we looked over at her to find her still eating the same chicken leg she had been given, gnawing at the cartilage for every last scrap of sustenance she could scavenge. What I wouldn’t have done to send that $50 to her and her family.

I was asked recently by my uncle if traveling the world made me feel small, if seeing what a big place the world is made me feel tiny and insignificant. I can see how it would be easy to feel that way, but the truth is I feel quite the opposite, and not in a good way. I come from a country that everyone turns to and admires. I have the resources to travel, and to find enjoyment in what is nothing but harsh reality for the people who live there. Although I come from a relatively poor family by American standards, in many of these countries I had enough money to do whatever I pleased, while those who lived there had to labor tirelessly for their next meal. It is hard to feel small under such circumstances. I feel disgustingly spoiled. Someone told me that I was spoiled for getting to go on this trip before I left, and although it was true, I felt somewhat hurt because I had put so much into being able to make this happen. I don’t have rich parents who were able to pay for it for me; I had to come up with every penny myself. But now I see that that’s not the point. I am spoiled. Even if I had to work to make it happen, the fact that I did make it happen means I’ve had more of an advantage than the majority of the world. 

I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to experience such an incredible adventure, to see the world, to live on a ship, and to meet some of the most inspiring people I have ever known. To Semester at Sea, my friends, and my family: thank you for giving me the world.

Debarkation Today. I Can't Believe This Is It.

25,117 Nautical Miles

This is what shuffle brings up on my iPod: 

"But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walks a thousand, miles to fall down at your door..." 

Sorry Proclaimers, I have you beat.

"If I could fall, into the sky, do you think time, would pass me by? Cuz you know I'd walk a thousand miles, if I could just see you tonight." 

Sorry Vanessa Carlton, I've got you beat too. 

Because by the time we dock in San Diego tomorrow morning I will have sailed 25,117 nautical miles. 

"Sweet dreams are made of these; who am I to disagree? I traveled the world and the seven seas, everybody's looking for something." 

Well, I Just Finished My Last Final,

meaning I am officially a senior. I'll be 21 in just over a month. And I don't know if I mentioned this or not, but in four days time I will have traveled in one giant circle around the world. No big deal.

Ready for Some Scuba Fun in Hilo

 

 

I'm Coming Home

I'm coming home,
I'm coming home,
Tell the world I'm coming home,
Let the rain wash away,
All the pain of yesterday,
I know my kingdom awaits,
And they've forgiven my mistakes,
I'm coming home,
I'm coming home,
Tell the world I'm coming...

Our ship leaves in 40 minutes and I will officially be home-bound. It was so strange to be back on US soil today, where everyone speaks English, and the highways are a huge waste of space; where I don't have to calculate the exchange rate every time I make a purchase, and everything just seems eerily familiar for still being half an ocean away from home.

P.S. I'll have cellphone service for the next 40 minutes, until we leave, if anyone wants to text/call me. :)

The Best Thing I Ate In: Japan

 

This has to be one of the most amazing things I've ever tasted. I decided I wanted to go to Harajuku, being in Tokyo for the third time and having never been there, and so rounded up a few friends and headed there via the subway, or train, or some combination of the two. I don't remember. The public transportation system in Tokyo is total chaos. There is the train system, there is a publicly owned subway system, there is a privately owned subway system, and there are several other random lines. They all interconnect in completely bizarre ways so that you have to have a handful of maps of each system to figure out how to get anywhere. So we made it to Harajuku, decided to have lunch before exploring, and I set about asking where we might find Kaiten Zushi, because conveyer belt sushi is the funnest thing ever and I hadn't had it yet this trip. Trying to find anything at all in Tokyo is a task in itself. Knowing some Japanese, asking and getting directions was never too difficult, but Tokyo is such a complex city that even the locals never know how to direct you toward what you are looking for. 

After a bit of a walk, we finally found what we were looking for, only after having bumped into a handful of other SAS students and picking them up along the way. I think there were about a dozen or so of us by the time we found the place. I sat down at the conveyer belt bar, and the fun began. I love Kaiten Zushi. The plates are all color coded so you know how much they cost, anywhere from $2 to $8 at this place (or up to $50 for a single plate if you go to one of the fancy restaurants). The sushi chefs are still right there preparing raw fish on rice, and once they are finished with their creations, they put them on the conveyer belt and round they go. So you have all of these delicious pieces of sushi rolling around and past you and you just watch in glee with your mouth watering, wondering how you will ever decide which to try first. 

This plate is tomago, or egg, topped off with some avocado, a couple shrimp, a bit of crab meat, a touch of fish roe, a drizzle of mayo, I don't even know what else but it was simply divine. I never used to like egg sushi, it used to freak me out for some unfathomable reason, but it is really really yummy. It doesn't even taste like egg but more like custard, and topped off with all of this goodness it was positively exquisite . 

My Favorite Country

Before I left home the most common question I encountered was "Which country are you most excited for?" Or even when I was on the ship in those early days, "Which country are you most excited for?" The answer to that question was always whichever country happened to be next on our itinerary, because that was honestly the only country I could focus on. When we first boarded I would say "Dominica," after that it turned to "Brazil." Now that I have actually been to all of these incredible places, I know I am about to come home to an even more challenging question, "Which country was your favorite?" I'm going to answer that right now. And my response is that I could never possibly answer that question. I loved all of these places, for completely different reasons. Some of them were my favorite because of the things a saw, some were my favorite because of what I experienced, some were my favorite because of the people I was traveling with, some were my favorite because of the people I met. So here is my answer to that loaded question:

My favorite country was Dominica because of its pristine beauty. It was in every sense, a paradise. And it took me completely by surprise. I have been to a fair number of islands scattered throughout the Caribbean and thought I knew what to expect from tropical islands. I was thrown completely off guard from the moment I first stepped outside that January morning to the most stunning sunrise I have every experienced, over a lush, green, mountainous landscape.

My favorite country was Brazil because of the outlandish adventure it gave me. I slept in a hammock out in the open in the middle of the Amazon Rainforest. I fished for piranha and feasted on it for dinner. I went Cayman spotting in the pitch black night along the Amazon river.  I hiked through the rainforest and swam in the Amazon with these bizarrely alien Pink Dolphins. Brazil gave me the Indiana Jones adventure that everyone fantasizes about at some point in their lives.

My favorite country was Ghana because it gave me the rude, humiliating, awakening as to how privileged we really are. I played with so many beautiful, carefree, happy children, who more often than not don't know where their next meal is going to come from. Going without running water, or even access to clean drinking water at times, made me appreciate just how much we take for granted, and the ridiculous amount of things we think we need to survive happily, but really don't. Growing up I never had to worry about food or water; I was fed three meals a day and was lucky enough to live in a place with clean tap water. That one aspect alone, that I never even thought to appreciate it was such a given, made me more privileged than the majority of the world. We hear that everyday but it is impossible to understand the full weight of it until you have seen it.

My favorite country was South Africa because it was the place that I could most easily see myself going back to live in for an extended period of time, and that is because I was comfortable there; everything was familiar on some level or another. Not only that but it was beautiful. It had the mountainous landscape that I have grown up with and would never want to live without, and the ocean. I got to hike to the top of Table Mountain and see the most breathtaking landscape before me, and then go diving with the magnificent Great White Sharks.

My favorite country was Mauritius because it was a small unexpected gift that was given to us out of the generosity of our amazing staff and crew here on Semester at Sea. Also, being a scuba diver, I have an insurmountable appreciation for marine life and any small island culture where the ocean plays such a significant role, whether as a source of food or in the economical role of ecotourism.

My favorite country was India because it pushed me to deal with being in a place that is so different it is uncomfortable at times, and I came out a stronger and more self-aware person for it. I have romanticized this place for so long and in return it stripped me of every little familiar aspect of life that we cling to when we travel as something that is not different. There is a point of ecstasy when you first arrive in a new place, when you are so excited that you don't have time to feel the discomfort of how foreign it is. It is only after some time there, after the initial glee wares off that you realize you don't know where you are, or how you are supposed to act, or what you are even supposed to do, and that is when you begin to become a stronger person. That is when a country truly teaches you its lessons. That is the true beauty of travel, and what India did to me.

My favorite country was Singapore because for a day I ran around and became a kid again. I visited Universal Studios, walked into the worlds of my favorite movies, got super psyched over the insanely advanced technology (they have magical electronic paper!), ate the spiciest meal of this entire trip, saw the view from the top of their most iconic high rise, and stood just outside the gate of their world-famous infinity pool. Singapore may not have been much different than any other big city, but it was a day of pure fun where I could gawk in amazement at everything with pure, childlike wonder.

My favorite country was Vietnam for two different reasons. First, because for the first time I experienced true backpacker culture, and it was exciting! I stayed in one hostel after another, surrounded by people my age who have been traveling for months on end simply for the enjoyment of it. I met incredible people from all over the world (which is ironic that that's what was exciting considering that's what I've been doing this entire trip), and heard their stories of their travels and realized just how easy traveling really is. I was inspired. Secondly, Vietnam showed me the true devastation of war. out of all of US history, I have always had this grim fascination with the Vietnam War, and visiting the Cu Chi Tunnels and the War Remnants Museum was a more moving  and horrifying experience than I could ever justifiably describe in a simple paragraph.

My favorite countries were Hong Kong and China, because they were an unexpected chaotic string of mishaps and surprises that somehow meshed together into one unbelievable experience. In fact, China was probably the most I have enjoyed myself, which is insane considering it was just one big series of mistakes and setbacks and language barriers after another (It's a long story). We were given an entire week, longer than any other port, to travel across one of the biggest countries in the world. I had no plans whatsoever until literally the night before, but I spent that week traveling with three of my favorite people on this ship, one of whom had ancestors that grew up in a virtually unknown city that we visited to pay our respects. And the street food was to die for. I still think about China's street food constantly. 

My favorite country  was Japan because I returned home. It was my third time in Japan, I knew the country, by this point I knew the ins and outs of traveling, and I just spent an incredible few days bumming around Tokyo and doing and eating everything I have missed the most. Japan hasn't changed a bit. It will always be a home away from home; someplace familiar and welcoming despite its being an entire world away from the US, as much in culture and customs as in distance. 

If you ask me what my favorite country was when I get home, don't expect a simple answer. My escapades in all of these places were so different, and they were all crucial to my overall experience. 

The Best Thing I Ate In: Brazil

 

Piranha! 

Yes, that is a piranha hiding under all those hard-boiled eggs and lime wedges. 

You'll like this story; I don't think I've told it yet. So this one time, smack dab in the middle of the Amazon river, a group of us were chilling out on river boats by day and sleeping in hammocks by night. We had this guide, Marcos, who had been told that part of his job was to take us piranha fishing. So the group of us moved from the river boats into little canoes and set out sailing down the Amazon into the areas where the piranhas like to hang out. We were handed long bamboo sticks with fishing line and raw meat tied at the end. I must say, it took great coordination with so many of us in this little boat to not smack each other with the bamboo sticks.

There is a certain technique to piranha fishing. You have to splash the end of the bamboo into the water really fast a few times to get the piranha's attention, and then let it sit for a minute and let the meat sink. There we all were, splashing the water with bamboo sticks, and it starts pouring. Remember, we are in the Amazon; it doesn't just rain, it pours. So we are all sitting there, soaking wet, desperately waiting for a bite when one of us starts yelling all excitedly that they caught something. They pull in their bamboo stick and there is a little fish hopping about at the end. I don't remember what it was but it wasn't a piranha. There are a couple more false alarms and we are all soaked and discouraged and wondering why in the world we are out in the middle of the Amazon in the pouring rain, trying to catch piranhas with bamboo sticks. And then it happens. I feel a tug and give the stick a yank and up comes a piranha bigger than I've ever seen (I always thought they were little things). Marcos somehow manages to pull the hook out of its razor-sharp jaw and puts it in the bow of the boat where it flops about violently for the entire ride back to the riverboats. 

We had a couple family members of our tour guides with us back on the riverboats who graciously cooked us home-made meals three times a day. For dinner that night, we feasted on my piranha. It was unlike any fish I've every had before. There really was not much flesh at all, but the flavor was unbelievable. And that is the story of how I ate piranha in the Amazon. 

The Best Thing I Ate In: Dominica

 

I suspect you're missing my stories of port as much as I'm missing decent food so I've decided to devote a post to my favorite meal from each country. It's a win-win scenario. Well not really, you get the story but I still don't get real food... 

So way back at the beginning of my trek around the world I was exploring Dominica, completely unaware at this early point in my travels as to how to go about finding the best food, and my friends and I were lucky enough to stumble by this hot dog man. He had a little cart set up on a street corner and you knew it had to be good from the crowd surrounding him. Actually, it was probably just as much the show he was putting on as the food itself. This guy could whip up a hot dog with everything you ever wanted on it in a few seconds flat. Watching his hands was a complete blur; one moment he was pulling a roll out of his cart, a few mustard squirts and flourishes later he was handing you a hot dog with the complete works. 

Back when we were still in the early stages of our voyage, I was unwilling to stray from my pescetarian ways, and so opted for his swordfish variation. In a matter of seconds he produced a long, thin roll of bread, what looked like a miniature baguette, sliced it open, smothered it with his obviously homemade swordfish and bbq sauce concoction, added some other garnishes and relishes, and handed me the result. Imagine some fusion of bbq, and that great Jamaican jerk taste that you can only find in the Caribbean, and make it into a sandwich. Mmmm.