Shit I Learned This Semester: Spring 2012 Special Semester at Sea Edition

In true Paul fashion, I’ve finally written my list of shit I learned this past semester.  For the past few years, I’ve posted similar lists at the close of each term on my other blog (holdenpaulfield.blogspot.com), and who would I be if I just skipped the greatest semester of my life?  Of course, I acquired a world full of knowledge, but I wanted to write a more general list of things from which I think all of you could learn (even if it’s just a little bit).  I’ve had a good amount of time to think about this, and I know it’s probably not the most perfect list.  There’s no way to sum up all of the things I learned into a list of merely fifty points.  Regardless, I hope you enjoy it.

1. A beaming smile can get you a long way.
2. The Vietnamese are incredibly fond of bendy straws.
3. You must admit your weaknesses.
4. The ground is beautiful.
5. Doxycycline can cure anything.
6. The internet is a luxury.
7. People are more impressionable than you may think.
8. I am a serious nerd.
9. Do not underestimate the ability of a few American twenty-somethings to find the nearest bar.
10. Everyone loves KFC.
11. Technology helps build relationships while simultaneously hindering them.
12. There’s no such thing as being lost.
13. The only way to test your instincts by making mistakes.
14. Don’t be afraid to make those mistakes.
15. Children are the best inspiration.
16. Everyone needs alone time.
17. Sometimes, you just have to splurge a bit.
18. Wealth is relative.
19. It doesn’t take a lot to make someone happy.
20. There’s a buoy where the equator and prime meridian meet.
21. The world of academia is very small.
22. Haggling can be a very playful social interaction.
23. If you think you’ve acquired sea legs, you haven’t.
24. When shopping in Asia, you’re approximately three sizes larger than you thought.
25. Everything is a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
26. It’s okay to be stubborn.
27. The best way to commemorate someone is by putting that person’s face on everything.
28. You will never truly know the things you take for granted.
29. Spontaneity will never disappoint.
30. Language is never a barrier to make friends.
31. The world is so much cooler when you’re not looking through a camera lens.
32. A brohawk can draw a lot of unwanted attention.
33. The most remarkable people are in disguise.
34. Much like crossing the street in Vietnam, you must be able to trust even when you’re feeling the most fearful.
35. 7-11 will never be the same again.
36. You are not alone.
37. Clear umbrellas are incredibly practical.
38. The beginning is also the destination.
39. You will never see most of the people you’ve met ever again.
40. Everything’s Gonna Be OK.
41. Take advice like a grain of salt.
42. People perceive you very differently than you perceive yourself.
43. Communism isn’t as scary as you think.
44. Find what you were looking for, then find something better.
45. There is nothing worse than living a life already planned.
46. You could still feel lonely in a crowded place.
47. There’s no possible way to remember everything.
48. You never really know how much someone has gone through to get where they are now.
49. It isn’t dark tofu.  It’s duck blood.
50. I love my life.  And you should love yours, too.

Rediscovery

After some time in the United States (coming on three weeks), I can confidently say that it’s eerie being back. I’ve gotten to reflect a lot, and I am still, of course, trying to process things. I’m sure that it’s a continual process, and it’s that fact which makes being back so weird. The constant discovery, or rediscovery, for that matter, of new ways of seeing the familiar is what’s irking me. After a few days of cavorting in San Diego, another few days recuperating at home in the Bronx, and a week-and-a-half visit to school at the University of Rochester, everything seems like they should be back to normal. For all intents and purposes, they are. I’m not going to exaggerate some kind of feigned epiphany. I know I came out of Semester at Sea a changed person, but I’m not going to rant on about it.

However, I find it a fun challenge being back “home.” Catching up with friends and pop culture has been an overwhelming and exhausting experience. “Call Me Maybe” is now permanently etched into my brain, and hearing gossip upon gossip is proving to be quite difficult to keep organized.

Here, I am including a piece entitled “How It Feels” written by fellow Spring ’12 SASer Bailey Gerber. I’ve heard the piece numerous times, and reading it over again after a few weeks has brought up even more memories. This account sums up things in a different way than I ever would, and it makes me realize the lens in which others who have experienced the same things have concurrently been affected. I laud it, and I give my utmost praise.

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How This Feels

There is a Singapore rail pass, a receipt from a Vietnamese dressmaker, and a Kingfisher bottle cap on the bottom of my purse. I have been to Dominica, Brazil, Ghana, South Africa, Mauritius, India, Singapore, Vietnam, China and Japan. My trusty anti-theft money belt is now the home of rupees, rand, cedi, reals, dong, yuan, and yen… and I don't plan on cleaning it out anytime soon. I have done more and seen more than most people will in their entire lives. This is how it feels to have a dream come true.

Where I used to see shapes on a map I now see people; beggars, politicians, drug dealers, philanthropist, thieves, travelers, parents, children and in many countries, angels. Everyday I have seen the best and worst that humanity has to offer. I have been ripped off, misguided, threatened, spit on and cursed out more times than I can count. I have also been brought to tears by the generosity of a complete stranger. We have all had to trust, especially in the taxi, tuk tuk, tro tro, rickshaw, and moto drivers- but above all, we have had to trust each other. We have experienced each other's good, bad and ugly, like really ugly…like day five of the Amazon ugly. Though we were strangers three months ago, we have shared moments of intense fear, hopelessness, bliss and inexpressible gratitude. We have supported each other through meltdowns, travel group drama and of course- missed FDPs. We have watched each other come of age, overcome fears and forge new identities…sometimes in the form of a nose ring or a panda hat.

I have gained an extreme amount of weight- or as I like to see it now- I have gained baby weight of my cultural and intellectual rebirth. But really – it's not like I was going to skip the Nan in India, the pho in Vietnam or the fan ice in Ghana (or the birthday cake on deck five). Although I won't miss the pasta and potatoes, I will always long for one more long dinner on deck 5. This ship must be the only place on earth where five college kids can have a three-hour dinner without being interrupted by text messages or Facebook notifications. Those long dinners will forever be among my most precious memories. Whether we were planning our weddings or trying to process India, I always felt most at home during dinnertime. May we always remember the freedom of being unplugged and out of touch and the magic of living in the moment with the people sitting around us.

I finally have the lingo down. I use words like deck, swell, port, berth, tymitz, green sheet, and quarantine. I know that breakfast means deck 6 and dinner means deck 5, unless it's inedible then its up to deck 7. I no longer worry about the pub night schedule or whether or not my clothes match when I run to global studies. I still don't know the last names of the majority of my friends - even though I can probably name their school, major, hometown and how they handle stressful situations. Like all SAS kids, I too have spent my fair share of time wondering if the peanut butter is actually soy butter or if the mythical stabilizers are out. I tell time by ports, using phrases like "We became friends after Ghana" or "I haven't been to the gym since Singapore." Even though I know there are 367 days in our SAS year, I haven't actually known the day of the week since we left the Bahamas. My closet is now an eclectic showcase of all the latest trends in tourist couture- I realize as I am writing this I am wearing pants from India, a shirt from China and bracelet from Brazil. I can't wait until I accidently pull out a Rand to pay for a cup of coffee or find a Family Mart receipt for five JapaneseStrongs in my coat pocket.

Though I will miss this ship- the garden lounge, the union and the cove. It's the people I will miss the most. I can't imagine life without the eggrolls, the SASholes, the shipsters, the pastels, Mizaram, Nalbach, Takada and of course the amazing crew- especially Achilles. I can already hear Stuart's voice in the back of my head before all major life events… "Graduation tomorrow- Graduation tomorrow."

It is funny to look back now- at photos of our old selves, before our dreams came true and the world changed us. You never forget the first person you met- hi ace! We looked so put-together, wondering the ship with our nametags on… now we look like day three of a Grateful Dead festival. However you describe it- backpacker chic, pirate swag - this scraggily bunch of college kids is now a force to be reckoned with …and I am proud to be among them.

As emerald shellbacks we have gone on safari in Africa, tried yoga in India, and enjoyed a few drinks in Mauritius. We have accidently hung out at a prostitute bar in Ghana and caused a 300% revenue increase for that 7/11 in Hong Kong (the same goes for the Krazy Koconut in Dominica and Captain's in Shanghai). We understand the frustration of being lost in a cruise ship terminal, a subway station and of course, Makola market. We have built houses, fed the hungry, meditated with monks and stood breathless as we visited 3 of the 7 wonders of the world. We now know that no public restroom in the US could ever match the horror of an Indian squatter… and we always know – no matter where we go, there will always be Kentucky Fried Chicken, Pitbull on the radio, and convenient store liquor. We have survived Brazilian rum, Ghanaian gin, South African wine, Vietnamese beer, and Japanese sake…and we have the stories to prove it. We will never forget the theme songs: "I Love my Life" in Dominica, "TIA" in Ghana, "Waka Waka" in Cape Town- and if you traveled with me in India, you will never forget dancing on the bus to "Chaiyya Chaiyya."

We are professionals now. We have learned the tricks of travel and how to walk with absolute confidence-- no matter how lost we actually are. We have slept with out wallets, tied ourselves to our backpacks and carried index cards with "please take me to my hotel" written in various languages. We know now it's best not to admit it is your first day in a country, especially when bargaining. We are now masters at the "walk away" technique and know that if the shopkeeper is happy- we definitely paid too much. We can spot a fake swatch or Prada bag from a mile away and all the while we wonder if the Tom's in Africa are fake or stolen. Red flags shoot up every time we hear phrases like "I give you good price", "Come meet my friend" or "Here brother, sister- have a look." We now know that asking about people's children and hobbies is the fastest way to drive down a price (and turn a greedy shopkeeper into an honest friend).

We have learned the importance of pronouncing people's names correctly and even more importantly learning the words "please and thank you" in every language. We have mastered the art of the discrete picture taking, whether we were trying to capture the serenity of a monk or the desperation of a child, we have captured moments that exist beyond description. Even if we took 1,000 photos- images can't convey the smells, tastes and sounds that made each moment real- and maybe now we realize that the magic really begins when we stop experiencing life from behind the lens and fully immerse ourselves in the moment.

We could have done a million other things this semester- stayed at home, studied in one country… but we didn't. At this exact moment in time we came together- to learn and grow and to forever be the kids of Spring 12. Although we were a special breed before the MV (lets be honest- it takes a special person to drop everything and sail around the world with complete strangers…without any real plans)- now we are just bizarre. We lived on a cruise ship. We sailed around the world. We went to a university that had a gangway and a pool deck. We must be the only people on Earth who had classes canceled so we could cross the equator or watch our friends in a synchronized swimming competition. Our lives are epic and we are epic… and I know it is just the beginning.

Although we are a pretty confident bunch, we still have our fears. Fears like getting off the ship, losing touch, or getting that first text message. We worry that we will be strangers to our family and friends and that no one will ever understand us again. We will lie awake at night wondering what we will do with our lives to top this experience or how to make this semester count. Deep down we all really have one fear- that we haven't changed, that we haven't grown enough and that we will settle back into our old ways of being. We will walk off the gangway in San Diego wondering: "now how do I make this the beginning not the pinnacle?" It seems daunting now, figuring out a way to make our new selves function in our old lives- and not bark at our friends when they complain about traffic, class or being hungry. After Ghana, I will never complain about having to read for class again. I get now how lucky I am just to be able to.

As alum, we will be a hard bunch to overwhelm, to scare or discourage. After waking up to a tarantula in Brazil or walking through a row of beggars in India, nothing really fazes us now. Things that once seemed "difficult" months ago are no longer remotely intimidating. We did this… now we can do anything.

Although we may be unfazed, may we never be "unimpressed." May we always be delighted by the wonders of world and find magic in every place and person- not just in the monuments or celebrities- but in everywhere we go. May we always see the world though these eyes- the eyes of youth and hope. May we stay optimistic and stay positive… and may we always stay a little naïve-for no other reason besides being young rocks. May we remember the things we said we would do- the people we promised we would help… and may we never forget the moments when we felt anything was possible….may we always remember the person we wanted to become. May we always see the world as an opportunity and a challenge- and may we wake up every morning ready to conquer it.

So as the moments slip away and we try to pack the last three months into two suitcases… may we smile bigger, breath deeper and soak it all in. However you want to say it- You Only Live Once, Love Life, Capre Diem, or Life is short… do it big and do it now… because this is all we have and we are the luckiest people alive. Of course we are lucky because we just sailed around the world and had 1,000 eye-opening experiences, but the luckiest because we have each other… and may we always have each other.

Shoe-Mester at Sea: The Video

Here is is... the moment you've all been waiting for: the video.

There's so much more to it that this tiny description, but I want to keep it quaint for now.

Packed in my suitcase for the Semester at Sea Spring 2012 Voyage was a pair of brand-spankin'-new natural canvas Toms. In order to chronicle my circumnavigation, I wore the shoes and took numerous photos in each destination which depict the state of the shoes on my feet as well as the location where those feet standing. This slideshow is a montage to give you all a look at what it was like to truly walk in my shoes.

This project has been both a blessing and a curse, and I'd have it no other way. I am so proud of the outcome of this project, and I am even more content in the way I see the world as a result. The world is full of beautiful things, but we tend to overlook them... especially if they're on the ground. Our true connection to the earth is through our feet. We tend to hear all the time that we need to leave our footprint on the world, but more importantly: how is the world leaving its mark on us? I think it's quite evident through my shoes that the world has made a lasting imprint on me.

Homecoming

As the MV Explorer sailed out of Nassau, Bahamas, the last thing in my mind was pulling into our disembarkation port of San Diego three and a half months later.  As I sit on my US Airways flight across the country, I realize how much has happened in between those two points in time.  It’s a little daunting to think about it.  It’s still surreal to me that I won’t be returning to the ship tonight (or any night in the near future) and sailing off to a new distant location.  Instead, I’m on the way back to the Bronx, New York, otherwise known as the place I call home.

The last few days on the ship were bittersweet to say the least.  After leaving Hawaii, we were bombarded with a slathering of final exams.  After all of the last minute studying (and not completely bombing the Global Studies test), we all got to spend a couple of days packing, saying goodbye, reminiscing, and thinking.  Thinking about our journey and what was up for us once we landed.  It was a whirlwind of emotion: from the Alumni Ball and signing each other’s maps as mementos to packing all of my international goodies into two bags and giving back my ship ID card.  The time at the end just seemed to fly by so fast by the end; I can still feel the cold of the rain against my skin and the warmth of a steaming bowl of ramen in Tokyo as if it were yesterday.  It seemed like the voyage would never end.  And then it did.

After two very relaxing days in San Diego (including a final dinner with my core group of friends and their families who came to pick them up), I am 32,000 feet in the air getting ready for my epic homecoming from my epic voyage.  In a few hours, I can say what very few can: I have completely circumnavigated the globe.

Memory

As I sit here on the last night of my voyage, I begin to reminisce about the past few months. As you can imagine, it's a blur. I'm not quite sure how to begin thinking about what has happened in the past 105 days. I keep seeing snapshots in my brain of many of the things I've seen and experienced as I've circumnavigated the globe. The blue waters of from the plane to the Bahamas. Hiking too far in the rainforest in Dominica. The view from the top balcony of the Teatro Amazonas. The feeling of hot fufu between my fingers. Sitting in a garage in Gugulethu. Sweating in a small kitchen in a market in Port Louis. Walking barefoot on the grounds of the Taj Mahal. Illegally jaywalking in Singapore. The smell of pho bubbling. Getting gypped on Shanghai's Cheap Street. Standing in the pouring rain amidst the lights in the electronics district of Tokyo. Laughing while I bought soaps in Hilo. And sitting here right now.

There was so much more in between that connects all of it together. Some that I remember. Some that I don't.

As I think about these experiences, some of which seem so long ago, I begin to grapple with the concept of memory. What is it exactly? I should know this because I've taken some classes on brain and cognitive sciences, but I couldn't really tell you. Is it just a bunch of pictures in our heads? Are there Post-It Notes that remind us of the tactile experiences? Does our brain highlight the sensory details in bright neon yellow? Why do I remember the topic of my second grade science fair project and not what I ate for dinner tonight? Who knows?

It's been a little difficult trying to pick out a few things that have stood out to me while on Semester at Sea. And it's supposed to be hard. What I've concluded is that memory doesn't work like an appendix at the end of a book that can be be used for reference. You can't just Ctrl+F the good stuff (or Command-F for us Mac users). It's more alive and sporadic than that. There's no controlling your memory. The weirdest thing will spark something in your head. So if I struggle to recall what I did "that time in 'Nam," or any other time, I apologize if I can't produce a good story for you. That's just not how memory works. For right now, this is just a huge blur that I'm still trying to comprehend, and it will take time for it to sharpen. In the meantime, I'll just keep experiencing things and hope my brain will remember them.