...aaand we're off !

November 11th 2006.

This is the date that appears at the top of my course schedule.

Its 8-point, Times New Roman font, and upper right-hand corner placement tells me that the date is nothing important or special, and certainly not the purpose of this document. I can’t think of any holiday or any other reason for anyone else in the world to care about November 11th 2006. For me, however, it is the word—just one word—that accompanies this date that gives it a lot more meaning.

Admitted: 11/11/2006

It is the date that the Institute for Shipboard Education and Semester at Sea approved my application to sail on the 95th voyage of the Semester at Sea program. That was 779 days ago; 18,696 hours ago I officially learned I would be embarking on the “voyage of discovery.”

I sit here today, a student on the fastest cruise ship in the world, among 735 college students who will join less than 1% of the population who can call themselves circumnavigators.

The M.V. Explorer has surpassed everyone’s expectations. It is an amazing ship that shouldn’t be judged from the outside just because it’s for “college kids.” It’s as nice as any other cruise ship floating on water today. Overall, I think we were all taken aback by the ship’s movements. While most sat in the Union (auditorium/lecture hall) on the first night for opening remarks, many found themselves in the bathroom puking and holding on for dear life. We’re all a little nervous what the “real seas” will bring, as we have been told the ship’s movements thus far have only been a “1, on a scale of 10.” The rocking, as I say, is great because it constantly reminds you how awesome it is that your college campus floats on salt water.

The first full-day on the ship, “orientation day”, was mostly on ship safety including detailed instructions on what to do in the case of a “man overboard.” And in case you were wondering: yes have to, among many other things, shout “man overboard!” It has happened before, although not recently. It would take the ship 35 minutes just to turn itself around to get someone!! We can NOT play in the lifeboats. Doors must be kept shut at all times as the waves will cause them to shut abruptly, putting our fingers at risk. And, oh yes, we had the ever so important yet excruciatingly horrible lifeboat drills. For these “emergencies,” we must go to our cabins and put on long pants, a long-sleeved shirt, closed-toed shoes, a hat and our life vest: perfect attire for our tropical and equator-wavering itinerary.

Socially, everyone on the ship is extremely nice and outgoing and participating in the same daunting task of making friends. Everyone introduces themselves to everyone and then whenever you see them again you can’t remember their name. The questions, the answers and the topics of discussion are all the same. It is an exhausting and robotic process. The reward, however, is being able to walk onto Deck 7 Aft and know at least 3 people lounging by the pool. Either way, the ability to sit with random strangers at meals or strike-up random conversation on the staircase is a custom that should exist in communities everywhere.

I do miss the Internet and cell phone, though I am slowly weaning my reliance on them. I have 250 Internet minutes on an Internet built for 50 people and that acts like it was invented in 1992. I made the mistake of opening my QU e-mail today, which showed 30 completely useless e-mails regarding things happening on campus of no importance to me. Thank you for your e-mails, by the way. My G-mail account was full of love and I think it’s important to stay grounded on a trip like this, and to remember “where we come from, and where we call home.”

Tonight we have our cultural pre-port meeting to prepare for our arrival in Puerto Rico tomorrow!!